Once, There Was Blood
by ellymelly
Summary: A Severus Snape story about his arrival at Hogwarts and descent into the alluring dark arts. It features Lily and Severus's first year at Hogwarts and all the mischief they get up to while unraveling some of the school's oldest secrets. Snape/Lily
1. Trails by the Summer River

_Disclaimer: I do not own ANYTHING that you recognise from J.'s Harry Potter series. I am just borrowing these characters - please don't sue me!_

* * *

There was a time when Hogwarts had been a dream – something that lingered beyond the thick hedge of trees that covered the wild hills to the north of his home and heavy mists which settled during the evening in sweet smelling tides.

The school crest and elegant words etched beneath it on the letter had become a sort of refuge for Severus Snape. He retreated back to that precious envelope, sliding his fingers over the heavy paper, tracing the ink with a sharp fingernail, in the hope that it would transform into a portkey and take him away from the hateful house around him.

It never happened. The years trailed on and his home became darker. Its walls, congealed with the remnants of past altercations, were scratched and mournful. He was sure that he could hear them sigh sadly as he slid past them on his way out into the last of the day.

Snape hated every inch of his life but was yet to give up on _life itself_. There were, he reasoned, beautiful things remaining in the world and he was confident that they lurked inside the mysterious, magical walls of Hogwarts.

He was surprised, then, to meet one of these things much sooner. It was an afternoon, late in summer when the trees had nearly given all of their green and drooped, exhausted, over the grass, when he heard the first shrill of laughter.

'_Stop it, Lily!'_ protested another voice, as the laughter doubled and a swift _whoosh_ through the air saw a small girl sail safely to her feet. _'You're not s'posed to!'_

Snape paused in the middle of the neglected path snaking along the river's edge. His thin, dark hair escaped from behind his ear and flapped about by his cheek leaving greasy lines there as he listened.

'_Oh Tuny...'_ protested a second voice, skipping back to the swing which had slowed enough for her to snatch its chains from the air. _'It's fun.'_

'_It's wrong,'_ replied Petunia, on the verge of tears. _'Mum says it's wrong!'_

Lily perched on the swing's seat and quickly started gaining height. Severus crept closer to the girls. He crouched behind a wretched hedge and peaked between its thorns and dead leaves. An elegant girl surveyed the river behind him with a set of fierce green eyes. She loved the wind rushing over her as the swing gained pace and, at its height, the chains flirted with the idea of flipping her right over the top.

Suddenly she was free. Lily leapt from the seat and stretched out into the air which she floated through, held there by some unnatural force. The other girl screamed and cried jealously before running off shouting, _'I'm telling! I'm getting mum!'_

Alone in the small patch of playground, Lily touched lightly down onto the asphalt. The wind kicked up and stole a cluster of leaves from an ancient plane tree. They rained down around her, crunching as their fragile stars rolled about.

Snape pulled apart the branches of his hedge so that he could see her better. He guessed that she was about his age – a bit taller than him with long, dark red hair and a light smattering of freckles across her nose from vacations spent far away by the sea. There was a definite similarity between her and the other girl who was headed across the weed-choked oval toward a line of houses and he guessed that they were siblings.

Whatever else this girl was, there was one thing for certain – she was a _witch_ and he was a _wizard_.

"Hello," she smiled, taking a few steps toward him.

Lily had to repeat her greeting several times before the boy hidden amongst the hedge startled and freed himself of its leaves and thorns. She paced around to its other side where she found him glancing nervously around, no doubt devising a manner of escape. He was shy, desperately shy. Lily's grin only widened.

"What is your name?" she offered, hoping a question would be easier for him. Her accent was different from his – cleaner, more defined like the other muggles in the street whose families had lived in the town for many generations.

He was going to retreat – dart back down the road to the safety of the riverbank – escape her questioning eyes and curious tilt to her head as she inspected him, but for reasons he did not understand, he remained rooted to the spot.

"I – I," he stammered, before mustering enough courage to continue, "I know what you are..." he said cryptically. "You're a _witch_."

Her smile vanished.

"A _what_?" she watched the boy return to his fidgeting; clearly wishing he hadn't said anything at all. "That's not a very nice thing to say..."

"No it's – " she was glaring at him now, with the same sense of repulse that he was used to seeing from living creatures. "I'm one too – a wizard, that is."

Maybe she thought he was joking, perhaps she had decided he was a little bit crazy. Either way he didn't mind because she was grinning again.

"Oh _aye_," she mocked him gently.

"You _are_," Snape pointed at the swings and she knew _exactly_ what he meant. "It's not a bad thing..." he added.

"_LILLY!"_

Lilly spun around so quickly that her hair obscured Snape's vision with a blur of red. The girl lifted herself onto tiptoes and quickly spied her mother and sister approaching, both with threatening looks. She was defiantly in trouble now.

Snape saw them as well and had to fight his natural instinct to flee.

"I think they're looking for you..."

"Probably," she sighed, as the teary, red face of her sister became clearer. "You still didn't tell me your name," Lily insisted, not willing to give up the field.

He tugged self-consciously at the ugly yards of fabric around him, wishing he could transform them into proper robes.

"Sev – err –usss..." he half muttered, as if she had drawn this secret from him most unwillingly.

"Sev," she flashed another dazzling smile, "it is then."

And she was gone, traipsing back to her mother who wasted no time questioning her, prompted by her sister's accusations. He wished that he knew proper magic so that he could hex them for her.

Weeks later, it was she who found him. He had escaped to the rubbish-strewn river, avoiding another violent row that was still underway. The raised voices and magical curses were carrying up the water accompanied, every now and then, by a colourful flash of light.

Snape had brought his letter this time. It was folded snugly inside his robes, kept safe for the day that was fast approaching. He didn't know what he was going to do. With the school year approaching, he would need books, robes, an owl and a thousand other things that excited first years, but he doubted his parents would give him enough gold for even a modest quill.

"There you are," Lily chirped, emerging from a stand of trees at the top of the small rise around the river. "You are not easy to find."

He didn't say anything, so she sat down beside him and picked at a sprig of clover.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said," she continued, "about – you know – me being a _witch_." The word was still quite unreal to her. Magic was in stories, fairytales and dreams. As her sister constantly reminded her, it was not _real_, it couldn't be and yet, these last few years Lily thought that there was something different inside her.

"I'm not saying that I believe you," she added quickly, as the boy finally met her eyes and began to open his mouth to speak. "But, let's just pretend, if it were _really real_, what does it mean?"

"It _is_ real," Snape insisted, reaching inside his clothes for something. "And _you_ are definitely a witch."

The word still made Lily flinch. A _witch_, weren't they evil? In stories the witches were the ones with warts on their hooked noses and half-eaten clothes which smelled of the terrible ingredients they used in their potions.

"You can do magic," he said, "I've seen you. When you're old enough, you can have a wand and –"

"Oh," she interrupted, "and I suppose we ride on broomsticks too?"

"Yes," Snape replied, quite seriously. "Some do." He found what he'd been searching for. It was a crumpled envelope which had clearly been loved more than any of his possessions. She watched curiously as he unfolded it and then withdrew a card from within.

"Hogwarts," he continued, allowing Lily to take the letter from him, "is a school for witches and wizards. Your letter will come, very soon most likely. Muggle-borns have to wait until just before school starts."

"_Muggle-borns_," she copied him, her eyes not believing the paper in her hands.

"People with no magic in them are called, 'muggles'. Sometimes they have magical children, like you. Sometimes magical couples have non-magical children, they're called, 'squibs'."

"And I'm going to get one of these letters..." she gave it back to him, disbelievingly.

"If you're lucky," his dark eyes seemed to shine, "it'll come by _owl_."

It did come by owl, three days after their talk by the river. The letter had not arrived at her mailbox, but straight to Lily's bedroom window where the poor, scruffy looking creature had tapped and clawed at the glass until she opened the window and it swooped into her room, depositing the letter on her bed. The owl hooted proudly at its effort and proceeded to hop from her chair to the floor, inspecting its new surrounds.

Lily raced to her bed and took the letter in her shaking hands. It looked _exactly_ the same as Sev's, only less creased and the thick wax seal was still in place. She was so excited, she forgot to open it.

* * *

_Lily Evans_

_2__nd__ Bedroom, Top Floor_

_11 Riverside Crescent_

_Spinner's End_

_Durham_

_

* * *

  
_

'_Lily!'_ came her mother's voice from downstairs. _'What is all that racket about?'_

"N – nothing..." she quickly lied, closing her bedroom door.

Inside the envelope was a letter, inviting her to the school. Her name was there, at the top of the card scratched in beautiful dark ink and old fashioned script. It looked awfully like her grandmother's writing, with the long tails on the letters curled excessively. Accompanying this letter was a list of objects that she would require for the school year, but as she read through it, excitement turned to despair.

* * *

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Uniform_

_First year students will require:_

_Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_One pair of protective gloves..._

_

* * *

  
_

Those, at least, she thought that she could manage, until she read; _dragon hide or similar._

The list only turned more and more impossible with extraordinary textbooks and finally the list of equipment beginning with, _1 wand_ and amended with the warning, _'PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS'_

She collapsed onto the bed in dismay, how would she find even half of these things?

Moving to the last scrap of paper, she found a note from the Headmaster of the school, _Professor Dumbledore_. It was not addressed to her, but to her parents.

She tried to shoo the owl out of her room, but it pecked irritably at her fingers, nipping one of them sharply before returning to its comfortable perch on the oversized door handle.

"Fine," she mumbled at it, "stay there, but don't come pecking at me when you _starve_."

The owl twisted its head nearly all the way off and buried its beak inside the soft duffel under its wing, apparently not in the least bit concerned with her threat.

She read her letters over and over until her eyes fluttered closed and she fell sound asleep, still clutching them in one hand. Lily stayed like that until morning came and, just as the sun crept up over the curve of the earth and down their street, turning the pavement pink and orange, a loud knock at the door woke the house.

Lily _knew_ it was for her. Already dressed, she darted out her door where she found her sister yawning in the corridor. Lily rushed past her and all but flew down the two sets of stairs to the foyer where her mother, dressed in a light gown, was opening the front door to a very strange looking old man with a set of half-moon spectacles perched upon his nose.


	2. Professor Albus Dumbledore

"Ah..." exhaled the old man merrily.

Ignoring the woman at the door, Professor Dumbledore craned his neck to take in the view of the sun rising over the dreary landscape of Spinner's End. It was a sad district, a kind of nook in the world that even its inhabitants misunderstood. He adored it. Splendid place.

"Mrs Evans," Dumbledore suddenly realised that he was standing in a doorway with its owner eyeing him scornfully. "What an _excellent_ morning it is!" he remarked.

There were only two people that braved the streets at this hour – thieves and salesmen. Mrs Evans did not think that this peculiar man resembled either. He was entirely a mystery.

"Can I help you?" she asked coldly, but was very careful not to be outright impolite.

The man wore strange, floor length robes which shimmered several shades of purple while his white hair, trailing down over his shoulders and sprouting from his chin in a thick beard, still held a few flecks of grey. Presently, he was showing an unusual amount of interest in their cheap doorknob and simply could not restrain himself from fondling it.

"I presume you have been expecting me," he continued, finally letting go of the object. "The letter that preceded me must have come as a surp-"

Lily's heart skipped a beat. She was crouched at the bottom of the stairs, peering at the door through the old wooden railings, hanging on every word. The letter addressed to her parents was still clutched firmly in her fist, undelivered.

"Letter..." Mrs Evans's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Dumbledore entirely missed her meaning. "Precisely," he continued, clearly astounded that this muggle had not tried to interrogate him. Most were quite anxious after hearing of the magical world – some were downright furious.

"I have received _no_ letter..."

He stopped mid-sentence as the word _'no'_ sunk through his soft mane of hair into his mind. "No?" his curled eyebrows raised themselves as if by magic. "No letter?"

Mrs Evans's head was slowly shaking.

"How extraordinary," Dumbledore seemed more pleased by the thought, if that was at all possible. "Well well, what a morning this will be."

The woman's patience began to wear. She folded her arms crossly and fought back a yawn. It may have been summer but the sharp cold winds of Autumn were testing their luck down the street.

"Are you..." a small voice trembled next to Mrs Evans. Lily had crept up to the door, unnoticed by both her mother and the old man. She was holding a letter. "A _wizard_?" Lily finished, both terrified and excited. She could feel the magic around him. The very air was flickering and buzzing even though nobody else could see it.

"Goodness Lily," her mother glanced down at her child, "you gave me a fright."

Dumbledore though, owned a grin wider than the moon's.

"But of course," he replied, withdrawing a small, smooth looking stick from one of his gaping sleeves. He held the wand up and pointed it at the dried patch of dirt beside the door. He muttered a string of nonsensical words under his breath and suddenly a brilliant green vine erupted and climbed the wall beside the door, finishing with a spray of crimson roses.

Lily's jaw dropped. _That was real magic_, she thought, as one of the roses let go of its petals and they tumbled down onto the man's hair, _and it was beautiful!_

"Oh," Dumbledore reached forward and slipped the letter out of her hand. He turned it over several times and then presented it to Mrs Evans, who stood, mouth agape like her daughter. "Your letter."

*~*~*

It had not taken much persuasion to convince the Evans's to allow their daughter to attend Hogwarts. The mother was, and remained for the duration of the interview, completely detached from the world. _Shock_ as it was commonly known, was a most useful emotion.

The child now trailed him happily, skipping and bounding down the road beside him as if she were seeing the world around her for the first time. In some small way he was happy that Filius had been detained by a wayward charm as it gave him the opportunity to wander with muggles. A lone car cruised past them and Dumbledore became entranced by the turn of its wheels and the sleepy creature half-heartedly resting on the wheel. It was so primitive, but quite fantastic. Without magic humans had found a way to make do.

"Excuse me, sir."

He felt his arm tugged down sharply. Upon further inspection, he found Miss Lily Evans waiting eagerly for his attention.

"Where are we going?"

"What an excellent question," he replied, "one that has a most simple answer. We are on our way to retrieve another student and then, dear child, we are going shopping."

Lily let go of his sleeve and resumed trailing him. That explained the small purse her father had slipped into her bag before they left.

It was not long before Lily realised that they were nearing the last of Spinner's End. The avenue of trees had become further and further apart. Several had died leaving conspicuous gaps while the rest of the tortured plants were curled into themselves. Weeds and rubbish replaced manicured lawns and the terraces were squeezed impossibly close to each other.

They came to a stop at the most unloved house she had seen yet. It was the last one in the street and had a view over the dirty trail of river and expanse of factories.

The Professor raised his hand to the door to knock but it opened on its own. A small boy with greasy hair poked his head out, took one look at Dumbledore, and then hastily exited the house and closed the door.

"That was easy," smiled Dumbledore, stepping aside to reveal Lily. "I believe you two have already met."

Snape saw the girl's bright eyes and ferocious grin. _"I knew it,"_ he whispered in delight.

"Right – Miss Evans, Mr Snape," Dumbledore led them away from the sinister looking house and out into the street which wasn't much better. He quickly scanned the windows for early morning eyes but all was quiet and asleep as it should be. "Hold on tight now."

Fascinated, they both did as instructed and the world they knew ripped away and vanished like a candle blown out by the wind.

*~*~*

The world resumed in a rather crowded, cobblestone street lined with all-day bars and odd shops spilling into the onslaught of people. Nobody seemed to notice the sudden appearance of a man and two children as they quickly got their bearings and joined the general flow of people.

Snape and Lily glanced at each other, often forgetting to watch where they were going. Twice Dumbledore had to rescue the boy when he was whisked out of reach by hurried groups of workers, tangled up in their briefcases.

"Careful now," he said, as they finally came to a stop in front of a pub. It was, if possible, covered in more centimetres of dust and grime than any of the other buildings. The mortar could have fallen from between its stones and Dumbledore was quite certain that it would have no problem remaining upright. Remnants of repair spells and anti-muggle charms were smeared rather generously over it – the most recent of which was currently holding the cauldron on the sign in place.

_The Leaky Cauldron_'s doors opened and the three stepped inside.

"Albus," a rather scruffy looking man in the nearest booth looked up from his butterbeer, "working already?"

"Alas this is not work, Olaus," he diverted to his table with the two children in tow, both hiding behind him. "I expect we will being seeing you this year?"

"Yes Professor," the man replied. He was a middle-aged wizard with a fabulous moustache curling theatrically up both sides of his cheeks framed by long, wavy hair that ended at his collar, all of which was a healthy brown.

"You're looking younger and younger," remarked Dumbledore, as the man finished his glass. "Found something I should know about in that cabinet of yours?"

"My secrets are not your secrets, Ablus," the man replied lightly. "But I assure you, I shall be on time for the school year, just as I promised. Students...?" he spied two pairs of keen eyes.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore had quite forgot his purpose for being in the Leaky Cauldron. "Merlin's beard, I believe we're late."

And with that, Dumbledore hurried them through the bar and past its other shadowy inhabitants all of whom were dressed in curious long robes and the occasional pointy hat. They left through a door that had seen better centuries and found themselves in a depressing alleyway that made Spinner's End look positively pleasant.

The Professor broke from the children and began counting bricks on a wall in front of them. Snape and Lily turned to each other with quizzical looks, neither sure of what to expect from the wall or the wizard.

"What is he doing?" whispered Lily, leaning closer to Snape.

"Something – magical – I guess," he replied, as confused as she was. He had known of magic all his life but his parents had never taken him into the magical world. They always left him behind, alone in the house whenever affairs took them out of town. He only knew what he had scavenged from discarded newspapers and the odd book from his father's study.

"There is it," Dumbledore honed in on an average looking brick. "Nearly evaded me this time..." he confessed, for it was rare that Dumbledore entered Diagon Alley in this way, most inconvenient as it was. "Right," he gathered the children beside him, "ready? Of course you are – look at those big round eyes, gaping in wonder."

Actually, thought both Snape and Lily, they were gaping in scepticism.

"Aaaand..." Dumbledore touched the brick deliberately with his wand.

Nothing happened.

"_He's completely mad,"_ said Lily quietly.

"_He's our headmaster..."_ added Snape, more than slightly worried.

The unremarkable brick groaned and began to sink through the wall and then – at the last minute, folded away.

"Wait, waaaaaaaait!" the man that had been slouched boredly behind the bar fell out the back door into the alley beside them. "Prof-ess-or," the crooked creature panted, scurrying to his feet. A large lump between his shoulder blades prevented him from straightening as he offered a small package in Dumbledore's direction.

Professor Dumbledore turned his back on the folding wall which had all-but vanished to reveal an archway into a completely different street.

"Tom?" Dumbledore queried, taking a few elegant steps toward the Leaky Cauldron's landlord.

"You for-got this."

Dumbledore eyed the package, hesitant to take it. "I don't believe I did..."

"Six months ago," Tom shoved the round, brown paper wrapped object roughly into Dumbledore's unwilling grip. "The Leaky Caul-dron is _not_ an owlery." With that, Tom dusted off his cloak and shuffled back into his bar leaving Professor Dumbledore to inspect his parcel.

"What's in it?" asked Lily finally, unable to keep her curiosity at bay.

Dumbledore threw it up in the air as if to juggle, then caught it and buried it deep in one of his pockets.

"No idea," he replied honestly. "Come on children," he re-affirmed his grip on their arms as he led them to the archway in the brick wall. Diagon Alley stretched out before them in all its disordered glory. "Let's shop."

Severus dipped his free hand into his pocket where his fingers found a small silver key. Satisfied that it was safe, he allowed himself to enjoy the _whoosh_ as the muggle world vanished and Diagon Alley begun.


	3. The Stolen Key

**Firstly, thank you so much for the review - it absolutely makes my day.**

* * *

In the world of their new headmaster, they quickly learnt that 'let's go shopping!' actually meant '_you_ go shopping!' for they were in Diagon Alley no more than a few moments when the silver-haired man decided he had other business to attend to.

"Mr Snape," Dumbledore bent down so that his beard grazed over the stone surface of Diagon Alley.

There was a rush of people either side of them, scurrying every which way in and out of shop fronts. They all wore long robes and pointed hats and carried curious assortments of items in their arms or creatures screaming inside cages. Witches and wizards of every variety squabbled over dragon scales, newts eyes, purple-blade grass and an array of things Lily had never heard of.

"It would be most gentlemanly if you could accompany Miss Evans to Gringotts."

_Gringotts..._ thought Snape, _wasn't that a bank?_

"Ah..." he opened his mouth to reply with _I have no idea where that is_, but Dumbledore brought the two children together and made sure they were holding hands before letting go of them. "Very kind, very kind," he muttered absently, beginning to wander off. "I will meet you back at this very spot when you have finished acquiring your school supplies," he added.

"Pr-professor!" Snape spoke up, rushing a few steps forward with Lily dragging behind him. Professor Dumbledore stopped slowly turned back to them, re-adjusting his glasses.

"How – how will you know what time to meet us?"

"I will know," he replied calmly, and then vanished into the crowds.

It was only then that Snape realised that Lily's grip on his hand was painfully firm. Her little knuckles had turned white and his fingers were a blushing pink where they were crunched together. He had never held a girl's hand before and had no idea how to address the problem.

"He just left us here..." said Lily softly, in disbelief. "All alone, in the middle of the street – a street behind a brick wall – a brick wall that –"

"Lily," Snape interrupted. She was becoming quite frantic and he could feel her heart pounding faster and faster through her grip. "Magic..." he reassured her.

"It takes some getting used to," she admitted.

A small explosion shook the street and the pair jumped in fright. It was followed by a shower of brightly coloured feathers that flew out the shattered window of the shop on their right amid a trail of curses. Birds screeched in high pitched cries and a small trail of black smoke wafted after the feathers. Snape rose to tiptoes and thought he caught a hint of flame deep within the shop.

"_Bloody phoenixes,"_ hissed a passerby, ducking to avoid the black smoke. _"More trouble than they're worth!"_

The sign on top of the shop squeaked and fell to the ground with a crash.

_Eeylops Owl Emporium_

It was quickly restored to its lofty location by a tall witch. A purple spell poured from the tip of her wand, took hold of the sign and somehow stuck it back onto its metal cornice. Next she set herself to fixing the window. Lily and Snape watched in awe as every piece of fractured glass picked itself up and flew dutifully back to the window where it remelted and cooled in an instant leaving a perfect, unbroken shopfront.

"_Oomprh!"_

There was a collision in the middle of the street and Snape found himself sprawled over the smooth stones. A dozen feet whizzed past his face kicking dust up onto him which inevitably stuck to his greaser than usual hair. Lily ended up in a heap beside him, still clutching onto his hand.

"You fell-" she flicked her hair back off her face and hopped to her knees, pulling Severus up with her.

"Well spotted..." he automatically snapped, as they dusted each other down and he finally regained use of his hand. Technically, he had 'fallen' he'd been _'pushed'_ – an important distinction that the girl didn't show the slightest bit of interest in.

Lily's eyes fluttered back to the storefront where a beautiful red owl retook its place at the centre of a bronze perch. Its feathers had tips of gold that matched its enormous eyes which the creature used to survey the street and in particular, Lily as she inched closer to it.

"We have to go to the bank," said Snape, snapping Lily out of her enamoured daze, "before we can buy anything. Did your parents give you money?"

Lily dug into her bag and pulled out a heavy purse. It jingled in the affirmative.

"Muggle money?" he asked. She was confused for a moment and then nodded. Of course, how stupid of him, how would she have anything else? "We have to change it into wizard money," he explained. "I think that's why the Professor wanted me to take you there but –"

"You don't know where it is, do you?"

He found the confession of it unreasonably embarrassing so he settled on, "It can't be hard to find. It is supposed to be the grandest building in all of – what?"

Lily pointed down to the far end of the street they were standing on with a satisfied smirk. In the distance several crooked pillars of white marble towered over the rest of the shops. They held up several layers of a snowy white building, gleaming in the sun. The building proudly owned a set of heavy wooden doors, encrusted with jewels and edged with gold.

"Just a guess," she offered tentatively, "but is _that_ it?"

"For a muggle," Snape begrudgingly admitted, as they started out towards it, "you're very observant."

"For a wizard," she saved him from another collision with a mad-looking witch with several feet of crazy hair, "you're very _not_."

Ordinarily he _was_ but ever since meeting Lily Evans his accident count had greatly increased. She'd somehow destroyed his sense of balance – or maybe it was his vision that was blurry – he couldn't tell because everywhere he looked, all he saw was the grinning redhead.

It took them ages to reach those doors. Every step they took towards them, the crowd nudged them backwards and it was only when Lily ducked and pulled him underneath the stream of bodies that they were able to escape from the crowd and join the line of people trailing into the bank.

When Lily saw her first goblin, she yelped and hopped behind Snape as she had Dumbledore. Snape looked back over his shoulder and found Lily peering out over it, watching closely as the goblin, white hair and bony arms poking out from its uniform, returned to a register and continued receiving business.

"_Goblins,"_ whispered Snape over his shoulder.

They were even shorter than Snape and Lily – by at least a foot, and sported bright red jackets with golden buttons and trimmed sleeves. Their intelligence was frightening, you could feel it gazing up at you, piercing through your eyes and straight down into your soul, deciding whether or not you're here to steal. Snape closed his mind and thought of nothing but a bubbling stream, taking a turn around a brown bank. The goblin broke its stare and returned to balancing galleons on a scale.

By the time they reached one of the counters (and clambered onto the boxes presented), Lily was too afraid to speak and it was left to Snape to fumble her purse onto the counter.

"We would like change muggle money," said Snape clearly, aware of the rumours surrounding Goblins and their poor hearing which they always used to their advantage.

"Exchange rates are on the board beside you," it droned with disinterest. "Objections must be made prior to counting. Sign here please."

He nudged a black feathered quill toward her. Lily looked at it but didn't register it as a writing implement until Snape picked it up and dipped it in an ink well for her.

"Oh..." she gently took it from him as a drop of red ink hit the counter. The goblin flinched but made no comment. "I don't have a signature," she whispered nervously to Snape.

"I think you can just write your name and make it look – hard to read."

She thought about it for a moment and then wrote, _Lily Evans_ in perfect script before putting several decorative lines through it.

"I'd believe it..." Snape rubbed his hooked nose on his sleeve as she handed it back.

The goblin whose name appeared to be Gersward, didn't seem to care what was scrawled on the paper as he immediately emptied Lily's purse onto the table and prodded its contents with a long, sharp finger.

"Twenty-three galleons, fourteen sickles and eight knuts," the goblin moved three neat piles of coins in her direction.

Lily didn't think it looked like much considering the amount she'd handed over, but then again, the first one – galleons, they looked like _actual_ gold.

"Th-thank you," she slipped it all into her purse.

_Thank you?_ Thought the goblin, _muggles_...

"Will there be anything else, young sir?" Gersward thoroughly hated this time of year. It was predictably flooded with unaccompanied eleven year olds staring, doe-eyed holding up proper procedure.

"I think he means you," Lily nudged Snape gently.

_The key, the key – the key..._ Snape burrowed his hand deep into his pockets and wrapped his fingers around the little silver key.

"I have this – a key," he presented it for the goblin's inspection. The key was tiny and light as a feather, delicately ornate with a serial number etched along its shaft.

"Zero-three-three-zero-six-two-nine," the goblin sniffed the key to check its validity. "You are Snape's child," he assumed correctly.

Severus's heart thudded unpleasantly. _They couldn't possibly know... not yet_.

"He is," Lily answered of him, when it became clear that Snape couldn't.

The goblin hopped off its chair and completely vanished behind the desk. Snape and Lily instinctively leaned in, searching for the horrid creature that was already behind them, waiting. Gersward announced himself with a discreet cough.

"This way, if you please," he beckoned them forward.

They followed him through the marble foyer and down a set of stairs to the left.

"There are many vaults in Gringotts," Gersward explained as he reached the first locked door. He whispered something to the door in a language Snape and Lily couldn't understand, and it swung open for them. "It would be a shame to steal from any of them."

This time it was Snape that fell, ever so subtly, behind Lily.

"_Thief, you have been warned, beware - of finding more than treasure there..." _The goblin made a horrible rasping sound that may have, in a time long forgotten, passed as a laugh.

"Yes," it continued, opening another door, this time with a key of its own, "a goblin always knows when treasure is unjustly on the move, the _real_ question, the only one that matters," he was talking to himself now, entirely forgetting the children behind him, "is whether or not he cares."

They came to a stop in front of a wall full of keyholes. Vaults, thousands of them, sprawled out into the dark tunnel. These were not expensive vaults, they were the basic, standard, almost post-box like holes in Gringotts magical walls.

"Your vault, Master Snape," the goblin pointed at a small square on the wall with a keyhole marked 0330629.

Snape swallowed hard.

He took exactly fifteen galleons from his father's vault. No sickle more. Severus had prepared it all so carefully and determined the minimum amount he would need for a basic set of school supplies. Still, it made him sick inside to think what he was doing and what made it _infinitely_ worse was his mind wondering endlessly why the goblin hadn't stopped him.


	4. The Wand and the Owl

**Thank you so much for the reviews! Here is chapter four - please enjoy :D**

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Diagon Alley had doubled its already bulging population by the time Snape and Lily spilled back out into it.

They began their hunt for school supplies with wands – it was always best to start there, if nothing else, at least you could make magic. That, and there was no way that either of them would be able to focus until they had one.

_Shoe shop_, thought Lily, upon entering Ollivanders. Every available wall (and ceiling) was covered by rows of rather ordinary looking boxes. Compared to the noise of the street outside, it was eerily silent inside the poorly lit shop. Nothing but a few straggly lanterns hung across the ceiling and their dreary glow was hardly sufficient to illuminate the deep, dark corners of the shop.

"_Ribbet!"_

Snape and Lily gasped in fright. Sitting on a pile of empty wand boxes beside them was an oversized toad keeping watch over the shop. It croaked again, unapologetically.

"_Yes, yes, yes – my, my, my..."_ an old, crackled voice trailed off, far out of sight at the back of the shop. The wand boxes towering around Ollivander jiggled with excitement. One of them would be picked – one of them would be free.

"It's," started Lily, deciding whether or not it was safe to approach the frog, "cute – I guess."

"Careful," warned Snape, "it _could_ be an Animagus – a wizard disguised as an animal."

Lily frowned thoughtfully, "But what kind of a wizard would turn into a thing like that? Not very useful, is it?"

Snape was about to debate the issue when Ollivander stumbled in, buried under the weight of several dozen wand boxes which he deposited on the front counter. He waited for the young wizard and witch to approach. In all his long years selling wands, he had always found it best that way.

"Ex-excuse me, sir," Snape approached the counter cautiously with Lily hopping up beside him. "Is this where we buy _wands_?"

The answer was obvious, but Ollivander smiled reassuringly, spread his arms and said, "But of course. I have been expecting you."

'_Ex-pec-ting us?'_ mouthed Lily.

"Mmm..." Ollivander thought, looking down at the wizard curiously. "You'll be wanting one of the dark-woods, a rich mahogany perhaps..." he wandered off. There was a shuffling of boxes in the distance and a few more half-formed sentences before Ollivander returned with two wand boxes.

He placed them both in front of Severus and carefully removed their lids. Two chestnut red wands with perfectly straight forms gleamed in the low light.

"Go on," Ollivander encouraged.

Snape stretched his fingers toward the first wand, inching closer and closer until they brushed over the smooth wood. Finally, he took it in his hand and lifted it from the box. It was solid, firm but for all intensive purposes – just a piece of wood.

Ollivander's head fell to the side and a moment later he retrieved the wand from Snape and snatched both boxes away before Snape had the chance try the second one.

"Too young," said Ollivander to himself, back up his ladder. "Much too young. You need something –" his pale, silvery eyes lingered on a dusty box in the far corner.

Ollivander was gone a long time.

"Is it always like this?" asked Lily. "I mean, can't we just pick a wand we like the look of?"

"It doesn't work that way," replied Snape, made a little nervous by Ollivander's long absence. "The wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around. We have to wait for the right wand."

"Oh," her voice fell even softer. "But what if a wand doesn't choose me?" Her eyes were round and green, full of sincere worry. He didn't answer her.

Ollivander returned nearly an hour later with only one box. It was a long, slender box made from a softly patterned wood rather than cardboard like the others. The seal on its front was not that of Ollivander's wand makers, but a mostly-faded trio of circles that gently spun around each other.

"If you please, young sir," Ollivander pushed the box toward Snape, not daring to open it. It was clear that he was deeply curious, on the cusp of a mystery that had haunted him.

Snape reached for the box and as he did, it rattled. Ollivander's eyes brightened.

"Yes," he whispered, "open it."

Snape picked up the box in one hand and instantly felt its contents shuffle about restlessly inside. The wand was waking up from a long slumber and now it was ready to work. Like a creature, it grew restless.

Eventually Snape lifted the lid of the box to reveal an ominous 12 inch wand.

It was beautiful – ethereal and never quite there no matter how he turned his head. Snape took the wand and left the box on the counter. It shivered under his fingers, responding to the slow movements of his hand.

"I did not make this wand," confessed Ollivander, as he watched the boy wrap his fingers around the ancient wood. "_Agathis_ – nearly fifty-thousand years old. Buried, dug up and reformed long before our time. Until this moment, it has never shown a spark of life."

The wand, whose grain appeared silken, like clouds captured in wood, made the air around its tip crackle when Snape gripped it tighter.

"I was beginning to think it nothing but a pretty stick," Ollivander smiled, "and I regret that I cannot tell you anymore about this wand. It was made, _if it was made_, in a time of different magic. Indeed, it is entirely possible that it has a core of Hydra-heart or Nosferatu hair." He lowered his eyes to the empty box, which he closed and moved to the side. "As such, I cannot tell you where its talents will lie."

"He'll take it," said Lily with a grin, as Severus seemed to be completely enamoured with the wand and unable to converse. "How much?"

Ollivander backed away with his palms up as if freeing himself of something.

"No charge," he insisted. "It is dangerous practice to sell a wand that is not yours. I have merely been its keeper."

Snape finally came to his senses and tucked his new wand away inside his robes where it would be safe.

"Oh," Ollivander snapped back into action, "I have your wand!" He ducked under the bench, snatched another box, and handed it to a surprised Lily.

"Willow," he said proudly, "10¼ inches, _nice_ and swishy. It will do you well for Charm work."

The wand took to her immediately – to the misfortune of the shop. No sooner had she tried its 'swish' when all the boxes flew off their shelves, toppling to the ground around them in a great hail.

"Oh!" she squeaked in fright, horrified. "I'm sorry!"

Ollivander grinned, swiped his own wand over the room and restored order in a flash.

"Your wand is a little over excited – no matter."

This time, he did charge for the wand and it was quite steep – almost a third of Lily's purse gone in the first store.

Their books and robes, quills and cauldrons were found much faster. They each pulled a trolley now, no longer able to struggle with their bags as they headed back down Diagon Alley towards where they had started. There was only one item left on their list – an owl, and they knew just where to find it.

Lily was scurrying impossibly fast ahead of him, dragging her trolley dangerously behind her. Snape wanted to say, _'wait – Lily!'_ but she wouldn't have been able to hear him over the crowd of wizards doing their best to leap out of her way.

By the time he caught up to her (after a mishap with a dwarf and a quick retrieval of his books), he found her waiting outside _Eeylops Owl Emporium_. They navigated their trolleys into the shop and left them along a bare wall.

Their air was full of soft, duffle feathers, wafting calmly around them – forever kicked up off the ground by shoppers' feet. A small crowd of people hunted around the shop's cages, tapping at their bars. There were not just owls inside but a whole range of magical creatures which were claimed to be trained to 'carry messages anywhere' and were of course, 'reliable and reasonably priced'.

But there was only one owl that Lily could see and it was the most majestic creature in the room, happily preening itself on its gilded perch at the window.

The other customers gave it a wide birth – mostly because of the sign hanging beneath it that read;

'_ATTENTION ALL CUSTOMERS – OWL NOT FOR SALE. KNOWN TO PECK SHARPLY IF APPROACHED. DO NOT TOUCH!'_

_Do not touch – _a warning that Lily had never quite gotten the hang of.

She stepped toward the creature slowly, whispering to it. Its crimson feathers ruffled, revealing their golden tips and for a few moments it looked a bit like a pom-pom. The owl seemed as interested in the young witch as she was in it, and allowed her to reach out and gently stroke its head.

Lily's fingers slipped in between its soft feathers and the owl leant in toward her, trying to get her to scratch a little harder.

Snape wasn't game to get any closer to the pair. While it was friendly enough toward Lily, it shot warning glares with its enormous eyes to anyone else that so much looked at it.

Suddenly, a small, stout sort of a man in overly long black robes raced across the room, scattering the crowd in his shop.

"_You mustn' touch!" _he shouted, nearly toppling another wizard balancing a falcon on his arm. _"Musn' touch!"_ he cried again, taking hold of Lily and pulling her roughly back. She nearly fell.

"Hey!" Snape ran over to assist, but Lily easily wriggled out of the man's hold.

"Very dangerous," he continued. A silver plaque glued onto his robes read, _'Assistant Manager'_. "Mustn' touch that owl," he kept repeating, as if it were the most important instruction ever given to him.

Snape could see why. The owl, no longer looking friendly, had a sharp flicker of green its eyes that wasn't there before. If possible, it was taller having straightened up to its full height of nearly three feet.

"Will rip you three ways apart," continued the assistant manager, clearly terrified of the owl. There were nasty scratches across his forehead and neck, possibly from the same owl which was inspecting the assistant manager as if it held a grudge.

"Does it take mail?" asked Lily calmly, grinning at the owl.

The assistant manager was taken off guard.

"Uh – uh – I – it should, I mean, it's _trained_ – but..."

"I would like to buy this owl," she said simply, moving to pat it again but this time it was Snape that caught her jacket.

"Lily..." he cautioned. "It looks _dangerous_."

"Not for sale," the assistant manager swallowed, perplexed by the idea of anybody wanting such a horrid creature. Then he pointed at the sign.

"But if it was for sale," she continued, "how much would it cost?"

"Twelve galleons but –" he hadn't meant to say that, "_not for sale_, too dangerous," he repeated. "There's a _lovely_ owl over here, same colour, bit smaller, eleven galleons-"

Lily cut him off, "I want _this_ owl."

"I-" he protested.

"Yes?" she insisted.

"But..."

"Give me the owl..." she demanded.

"Not 'supposed to-"

"Thirteen galleons..."

"I-" the wizard seemed to consider this, glancing back at the horrible owl that had been nothing but trouble since its previous owner threw it back into their shop in disgust. _It would be good to be rid of it_. "Fine..." he finally agreed. "If you can carry it, you can buy it for _thirteen_ galleons."

Snape let Lily's coat slip through his fingers as she returned to the owl which seemed perfectly happy to let her stroke its feathers. She extended her arm and whispered to it again. Dutifully, the enormous owl hopped onto her arm, carful to keep its sharp claws in check.

The whole shop was watching now, following her as she paraded the owl through the room toward the counter where the witch that had fixed the window waited. The people at the counter scattered.

"Thirteen galleons," said the witch, extending her hand into which Lily emptied her purse.

Lily's face fell in dismay. She was short – two galleons.

The witch behind the counter raised her eyebrow at the pitiful pile of sickles and knuts that simply refused to add up to two galleons no matter how many times Lily counted them.

"Here..." whispered Snape, handing her two shiny gold coins from his pocket. His last galleons. Lily frowned at him.

"That's all you have," she said, "what about your owl?"

"My parents will lend me theirs," he lied quickly. "Go on, I think it might kill everyone in the shop if you don't buy it."

The owl blinked in the affirmative.

"Well," said Lily slowly, "if you're sure..."

A short time later, they returned to the place where Professor Dumbledore had left them. They felt a bit silly, standing their ground in a random spot, apparently in the way of everybody else. The owl, still on Lily's arm, spread its wings and knocked a few teenagers over in the process.

"I think Merlin likes being out," she stroked it again. Snape was still terrified of the creature.

"You're really going to call it _Merlin_?" he inquired, eyeing the owl. It didn't look one bit like the pictures he'd seen of the great wizard.

"Yes," she said simply. "I am. Finally-" Lily pointed at Dumbledore, working his way toward them. "I thought he had forgotten about us. Mum'll be worried, we've been gone for _ages_."

They had, it was almost dark. A sinking feeling crept over Snape – he had been dreading this moment all day.

Dumbledore looked positively odd – more so than usual. One side of his hair was now shorter – singed off at an angle accompanied by several burn marks on his robes. Still, it hadn't affected his mood. He was as aloof as ever.

"Well done!" he exclaimed, seeing their haul of things. "All set then. _Fine creature_," he commented, spying her owl. Dumbledore instantly went to stroke it but the owl retaliated, wasting no time stabbing the professor's finger with its sharp beak. It drew blood but didn't damage Dumbledore's opinion of it, "Excellent!"

Dumbledore returned them to Spinner's End, starting with Lily.

"That was _wonderful_," she said, heading toward her front door with her trolley and owl. "I can't believe school starts tomorrow!"

Snape waved as her door closed and she disappeared into the house.

"Now, for you," Dumbledore turned to the small, dark haired boy.

"Sir..." Snape said quietly, "I don't-"

"Have an owl, yes," he pulled a wand from his robe, "it had caught my attention."

Dumbledore pointed to the window on the top level of Lily's house. Snape narrowed his eyes and quickly saw a small scruff of feathers launching itself at the window from the inside – trying but failing to escape from Lily's room. Dumbledore flicked his wand and said, _'Alohomora'_.

The window clicked and slid open, freeing the creature which launched itself into the air and half-flew, half-fell to the ground beside Dumbledore and Snape.

"Mr Snape," said Dumbledore, "meet my owl. He was kind enough to deliver a letter to your friend yesterday. As it happens, my need of his assistance has come to an end, therefore, from now on, he is _yours_."

Snape's eyes widened. _The headmaster's owl?_

The owl seemed to understand and took to hopping along the ground beside the young boy.

"Now," continued Dumbledore importantly, "the train leaves tomorrow. I have arranged with Mrs Evans for her to take you there with Lily early in the morning."

Snape didn't ask how Dumbledore had known that he couldn't get to London.

"And now I bid you goodnight," said the professor finally. "And welcome to Hogwarts."

In a puff of smoke, he was gone and Snape was left all alone outside Lily's house. He fought to hold a sob down – he could not go home again, not for a _long_ time.


	5. Feeding Death

_**Once again, thank you so much for the reviews. In this chapter, you will recognise some of J.K. Rowling's dialogue - it's not mine, I don't own it. Actually, I don't own anything... LOL Please enjoy :D**_

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Severus Snape slept by the river, curled up to his trunk and wrapped in nearly every layer of clothing he owned. Just before dawn, his new owl (whom he just called, 'owl') returned and began hopping around on the damp grass, chasing mice.

The fog that had swept and swirled over the ground all night was now lifted to the tree line, hiding the sky from view. It was like an underworld and though he was freezing, Snape would rather be beneath its cloaking mists than locked in the small dark room at the end of the street.

Eventually morning crept over the sky, dragging with it several golden strips of light. Severus yawned widely and rolled over, making the only dry part of his clothes soggy with dew.

It was not his fault when he arrived at the Evans's house looking a bit scruffy. The young boy could have done with a wash but for an eleven year old he passed as decent. Patiently stationed on their step, he picked an owl feather from his hair, separating it from a vicious tangle. He was a touch early but then, so was Lily when she spilled out of her house, glee written all over her face.

"Do you want breakfast?" she grinned, and opened the door for him. Lily had no idea why, but Sev always looked hungry. It usually brought on an overwhelming urge to feed him.

*~*~*

The train was huge with a plume of hot steam swirling from its front. Its brakes squeaked loose and the giant iron wheels slowly began to turn. Soon they were jolted forwards as the scarlet train pulled out of platform nine-and-three-quarters and headed on its way to the magical school of Hogwarts, buried somewhere high in the mountains.

There had been some concern raised over Lily's owl, Merlin, when she had casually tried to board the train with it perched on her arm.

The stationmaster – cautious by profession and accustomed to school children's attempts to sneak things onto his train – had approached her, sized up the fearsome accessory and against his better judgment, said nothing.

Quite frankly, Snape didn't see how Lily would have been able to wrestle Merlin into a cage even if she'd wanted to. It didn't appear to be _that type of owl_. Neither was his own, who hopped freely around the red-leather seats of their compartment. Snape didn't own a cage or have the faintest idea where to get one which his owl seemed quite pleased about. Like an annoying kitten, it hopped and pecked at Merlin's scarlet feathers, trying for attention. To Merlin's credit, he did his best to ignore the creature, merely opening one golden eye lazily to observe the situation.

"It wasn't your fault," started Lily, getting comfortable, "that you cracked the car window. Tuny was being mean and I already explained to mum that we don't have control over our magic yet. She didn't seem mad – not really."

Severus leant against the train's window as it shuffled and shook along the track. The pines were close now, rustling in the wake of the train as it wandered in and out of tunnels.

Lily was his only claim to friendship. She was beside him, clutching a small pile of wizarding books nervously to her chest and casting suspicious glances at the confectionary cart rattling past next to the door. A chocolate frog had broken free of its wrapper and was now hopping excitedly down the corridor until it was snared by a tall boy and devoured without the slightest bit of remorse.

"Are you hungry?" he enquired in a mumble, losing more of his already tiny store of confidence. It was different before, when it had just been them but now that Lily could see the rest of the magical world how would she ever see _him_ again? He was certainly nothing special – just another underage wizard.

"A little..." she returned her dazzling green eyes to him. He had offered her the window seat but as it happened, she was not fond of trains or travelling on them. The whole experience made her quite unsteady and perhaps a little frightened. It was the first time Snape had seen her shaken by anything.

There was a swish of black robes as Snape went to the compartment door and ducked out of it. Three knuts... that's all he had but it was enough to buy some frogs. He returned with his bounty – his mood improved.

"Don't worry," he assured Lily as she held the croaking box. It was moving, nearly hopping out of her hands as she wrestled with it. "It's just chocolate _charmed_ to act like a frog."

She was about to try one when their carriage door flew open. Merlin opened both eyes and turned his sinister head to the intruders, deciding whether or not they were worth the attack.

The four boys were the same age as Lily and Snape, though far more at ease with their environment. Wizarding families no doubt. They had already changed into their school robes and each fondled their new wands, looking for an excuse to use them for good or ill, whichever presented itself first.

One of the boys had jet black hair, almost the same as Snape's only clean and soft. He also sported a pair of glasses to match so overly large that they could have tumbled him face first to the ground if he hadn't been draped over the side of the door.

"Can we help you?" asked Lily warily, lowering the unopened frog to her lap.

It was obvious that their arrival was unwelcome but that didn't stop the boy with glasses from sauntering in like he owned the world.

"Ooo..." said James, upon seeing the boy and girl sharing cheap confectionary. Sometimes fate handed down gifts – this, thought James, was a gift. "May we sit?" his eyes drifted to the seat opposite with the owls.

Merlin's answer was a dangerous _no_ but Lupin, Peter, Sirius and James struggled to squeeze in beside the temperamental birds. Sirius, closest to Merlin's sharp beak, glared straight into its twin golden eyes until the bird saw something it didn't like, flinched and backed off.

An awkward silence ensued as both parties sized each other up. Trying to ignore their new guests, Lily returned to her chocolate box, noticing a beautiful green and silver ribbon wound through its top. It matched her glossy eyes.

"Slytherin colours," said Snape proudly. He couldn't help but notice how well they went against her hair. "I hope you're in Slytherin," he added, knowing that there was a better than even chance he would be.

"_Slytherin_?" James snapped his head up, running his wand menacingly through his fingers. "Who'd want to be in Slytherin? _Shrunken pixies_, I'd leave – wouldn't you?"

Sirius moved some of his dark, unruly hair out of his face. "Family curse," he muttered, "my whole ancestral line's been in that house."

James frowned in his friend's direction.

"Really?" he adjusted his glasses. "And here I was thinking you were all right..."

"Eh," Sirius shrugged and the hair fell back across his eyes, "maybe I'll break tradition – give Gryffindor a shot."

Snape nearly choked on his smirk.

James's eyes narrowed as he renewed his interest in the original owners of the compartment.

"Do you have an objection?" James surveyed the skinny, greasy-haired child.

"No, no..." replied Snape quickly, though he couldn't help the spread of his sneer. "Gryffindor's _perfect_ if you've got more brawn than brain..."

The four opposite edged forward.

"Oh..." James twirled his wand over the back of his hand, "and what are you aiming for, seeing as you're _neither_?"

Lily had no idea what they were talking about but she didn't like their tone.

"Come on Sev –" she went to stand, "let's find another compartment."

James stopped her as he and his friends stood and moved toward the door, insisting that she sit.

"Not necessary," James winked at the red-head. "We're only passing through. See you _Snivellus_!" he hissed, and led the others out – mischief managed.

The train rocked sharply as it set forth over a spectacular bridge, impossibly high over a meandering river. Lily yelped as the frog leapt out of its container and began hopping about the compartment. Snape's owl thought this was _wonderful_ and gave chase, flapping its little brown wings as it tried to catch the chocolate. Deciding to let the owls have the frog, Lily slipped the decorative card out of the box and held it to the light.

Snape's eyes had gone wide in wonder. He'd never seen a _real_ chocolate frog card before.

"Who did you get?" he asked eagerly. Lily flipped the card over so that he could read. "Merlin..." Snape mouthed in awe. "I told you your owl looked nothing like him."

Lily had to agree... The ancient wizard, who was busy twirling his beard in his long, bony fingers didn't bare the slightest resemblance to her owl.

_MERLIN AURELIUS AMBROSIUS_

_Also known as, 'Prince of Enchanters', he is famous for his role in King Arthur's court between 316AD and 384AD successfully integrating with muggle society and assisting the king in his battles through magic and advanced potion skills._

_He escaped imprisonment from the powerful witch known as, 'The Lady of the Lake' and went on to teach the importance of co-operation between magic and muggles. However, like most ancient wizards he continued to believe in Pure Blood Elitism. A victim of love and treachery, he is perhaps our most famous wizard._

_Founder of the, 'Order of Merlin' and source of the common phrases, 'Merlin's pants!' 'Merlin's beard!' and any variation thereof._

Lily unthinkingly twisted the card around to the distress of Merlin who struggled to remain upright.

"Oh," she squeaked, and righted the card. "Is he alive?"

Snape shook his head.

Her next card was of Albus Dumbledore – arguably the most common card in existence but still a _must_ for any new collector. Lily got a kick out of the mention of dragon blood and decided that she needed to wear her dragon hide gloves. Finally chomping down on her frog, she handed the third and final box to Snape who took it reverently, like some great jewel.

Snape was ready for the enchanted frog, swiping it the second its feet poked out of the top of the box. Chewing happily, he inspected his very first wizarding card with Lily draped over his shoulder.

_OLAUS WORMIUS_

_Born May 13, 1588 disappeared August 31, 1655. Legendary healer and adventurer, Olaus was the first wizard to confirm the existence of Unicorns. Disgraced after his research was leaked into the muggle world, he was forced by the Ministry of Magic to write a very convincing set of papers debunking his own discovery or risk possible imprisonment._

_After banishment from the magical realm, he became equally famous in the non-magic world for his contributions to the physiological sciences._

Both children leant into the card, inspecting with great curiosity the portrait of Olaus Wormius. They found an old man with large, kind oval eyes heavily creased at their edges. The balding patch on top of his long, silver hair was covered by a black cap while his head struggled to sit on the enormous ruff collar. Though a soft looking man, there was a wildness in his eyes as they slowly paced backwards and forwards with their amber colour. He looked immensely familiar.

"You can have them, if you like," Lily presented the cards to Snape. He looked shocked, but happily took the other wizarding cards. It was the second thing anyone had ever given him, the first being his owl which now had a squirming chocolate frog stuck to its beak. Merlin, pleased that the owl had found something to occupy itself, settled back to sleep for the remainder of the trip, as did the two children.

They arrived at Hogwarts just on nightfall.

Instead of a castle nestled somewhere between the mountain ranges above the fabled great lakes, all Snape could see was a scattering of lights high up in the hills with a trail of people and carts winding slowly toward it.

As soon as their owls exited the carriage they took off into the night toward the castle. Lily called out, _'Merlin!' _to no effect. Unlike the children, the birds knew exactly what to do.

You could easily pick the first years – they were the ones hiding behind their luggage waiting to be retrieved while the other children rushed forward, fighting for their carriage or simply charming their luggage to follow them as they hurried toward Hogwarts.

"I think we should find a carriage..." suggested Snape, spying and vacant one nearby.

Lily agreed, but as they got closer to the line of empty carriages they realised that they weren't being drawn by ordinary horses. A sleek, frightening creature pawed the ground in front of each one. Its skin, not hair, glittered in the half-moon light giving them a sinister edge of silver. Their eyes were black and huge that never blinked. As Lily and Snape approached one, it turned and stared making them shiver unconsciously.

Some distance behind, another group of first years had decided to brave the journey to Hogwarts on their own. Lupin, James, Sirius and Peter fancied themselves ready to take on the world – finally allowed to perform magic.

"Give it up," said Sirius for the thousandth time since leaving King's Cross, "you _can't _hex anything."

"I can," insisted Lupin, holding his wand high up above his head. "See that lantern?" he pointed at one of the hovering lanterns behind the horse-less carriages – they wriggled about like oversized glow-worms. "_I'll hex it_!"

The others folded their arms, quite convinced that Lupin was _full of it_.

Tattered excuses for robes were lifted off the ground as Lupin raised his wand and whispered, _"Seizuraell!" _at the lantern. Unfortunately, no sooner had he waved his wand he found himself falling toward the ground with the wind knocked out of him by a third year student, completely unaware of the trouble they had just caused.

The hex, now poorly aimed, entirely missed the lantern and instead hit a small boy squarely between the shoulders. Looking up from the mud, Lupin saw the other first year stumbled and fall to the ground beside the carriage, shaking and convulsing with the red haired beside him shrieking in panic.

"Oh _crap_..." muttered Lupin, though his friends had already started breaking out in raucous laughter.

"That's _brilliant_!" howled Sirius, nearly falling down to join Lupin. "You actually hexed something."

Lily dived on top of Severus, trying to stop him flaying and screaming on the ground.

Professor McGonagall had been watching the whole sad set of events unfold from the train. A tall, imposing witch with a serious expression and tightly wound hair flew in with her emerald green robes rippling behind her. She descended upon Severus and Lily, wasting no time murmuring an anti-hex at the poor child.

Snape's body relaxed and he lay there, motionless with Lily tugging at his robes while McGonagall turned her attention on the four no-longer-laughing boys.

"What is your name?" she snapped at Remus, who was struggling to his feet and unsuccessfully trying to remove several layers of mud from his appearance.

_He was so dead_, thought Lupin, as the witch moved closer. She was fierce looking.

"Remus Lupin..." he offered, though he knew it would hardly get him out of trouble.

"And you three?" she turned her eye to each of his friends and in succession they muttered, _'James, Peter, Sirius'_. "Please store what I am about to tell you – no doubt it will be of use. Performing a hex on another student is _strictly forbidden_. The usual punishment for such an event is expulsion..." she seemed to gain some satisfaction from the horrified look on Lupin's face. "However, seeing as you are not yet formally a part of this school, it would seem unfair to do so. Therefore, Mr Lupin, you have the unhappy pleasure of being the first student in the _long_ and _illustrious_ history of Hogwarts to gain a detention before reaching its gates."

Lupin wanted to _hide_ as a rather large crowd of students continued to build around him, highly amused by his plight.

"In addition, I will be deducting twenty points from whatever house has the misfortune of enduring you and a further five for each of your co-conspirators." They looked horrified. "On your way now," she pointed at the carriages, "if I catch you being tardy there'll be hell to pay."

They went without protest after shooting a hating look at the boy whom Lupin had hexed. Unbelievable, it was the insipid boy from the carriage – _if he hadn't been standing there, none of this would have happened,_ they reasoned.

Snape was seated. Professor McGonagall knelt down to the boy and his rather concerned friend.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly.

Snape nodded and found himself hauled back to his feet.

"You can see them, can't you?" McGonagall addressed both of them, hinting at the empty space ahead of the carriage. "I saw you approach them before – it is not every first year that can spy a Thestral. Here..." she handed Snape a small chuck of raw meat and indicated that he should offer it to the creature which had turned its head, sniffing eagerly at the air.

Snape did so, and soon he felt the warm nose of the creature nudging his hand for more.

"They're very friendly," McGonagall smiled, "but not the prettiest thing to look at – if you can. It is a shame that a fine animal is spurned for such a reason."

"Why can't everyone see them?" asked Snape quietly, as Lily began to pat its nose.

Professor McGonagall looked thoughtfully at the two children.

"To see a Thestral, you first have to see death. It is an ancient curse on their species – a kind of magic that nobody understands enough to alter."


	6. That's Sorted

_**Thank you so much for the reviews and favourites - it absolutely makes my day. Here is the next chapter - a bit longer than I realised it would be! I have taken certain liberties with canon this time - especially in regards to ****Trelawney but my reasons will become clear in later chapters. :D  
**_

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Minerva drained the silver goblet of wine and then proceeded to transfigure it into a frightened dormouse which scurried along the teachers' table and off into the castle.

Dumbledore couldn't hide his smirk. His elbow slid across the wooden bench top, gradually lowering his head until he was close enough to whisper, "Something bothering you?"

She avoided his glittering half-moon spectacles, predictably on the verge of tumbling from his nose. Minerva knew all too well that his sharp eyes would take far too much amusement in her plight than she would enjoy.

The crowd of first years shook en masse, quivering and ruffling like feathers on an owl as they approached the stage and its innocuous stool. She watched despairingly as the fourth and final student she'd reprimanded earlier was sorted into _her_ house. Young Black grinned broadly as the hat reluctantly shouted, _'Gryffindor!'_ and five more points were docked from the house point tally.

Dumbledore glanced at the negative points but made no comment.

"No doubt," she started, just as Dumbledore went to pull away, "the four most troublesome children in history."

Dumbledore peered _over_ his glasses at her.

"Oh, I don't know –" he said lightly, "if memory severs, you were _fun_."

"Legend says you weren't much better," she snapped back. "But _these_," she nodded at the set of youngsters, "I feel like I should invest in a second set of eyes just to be sure."

"I am certain under your care they will turn out just fine..."

She scoffed and then glared at the old, misshapen sorting hat for good measure. "It has a twisted sense of humour," she accused the hat, feeling spurned.

This time Dumbledore openly chuckled, sipping his wine before Minerva transfigured it in spite. "It is a thing of powerful magic – old magic, certainly it has a sense of purpose."

Her silvery eyes went bright with scorn.

"But I doubt very much it indulges in humour," he finished, as a small dark haired boy with a large nose crossed the stage and sat down.

Minerva hinted at the empty place setting beside her where the Potions Master was supposed to sit, "Your new man is late - I hope Horace is enjoying himself," she added, "his O.W.L. students are already seething at his absence."

*~*~*

Severus's stomach completely flipped as the heavy sorting hat fell over his eyes and the world went black. He gulped, clutching the edges of the stool as if trying to secure himself to the real world.

"_There is only one place for you," _declared the sorting hat, so that only he could hear. _"And I think you know what it is?"_

_Slytherin_, thought Severus. He had dreamt of its satin green, marble floors and secret magic. It was a house draped in a grand history, like Hogwarts itself. To him, Slytherin represented everything he knew about the magical world – everything his mother meant to him.

The hat seemed caught off guard, like it was going to say something else. It shifted on his head, pushing Snape's hair askew.

"_It's a choice,"_ it cautioned the young boy, searching deep within his mind. All the hat could hear was the boy thinking,_ 'Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin - please...'_

A short time later the bright hall returned and the Slytherin table was on its feet, cheering its new member. Snape blushed and, after a sympathetic look in Lily's direction, found a seat at the end of the table just behind the scowling Gryffindors.

Lily had to wait. There was no method in the randomness of Trelawney's calling of students. It was not often she escaped the isolation of her Astronomy tower and so, determined to make the most of it, she fussed about the stage between each child. Professor Trelawney may have only been a relatively young witch, but her hair had started to turn grey – the by-product of a nasty curse from an unfriendly wand. It hung wildly around her shoulders making her appear half-mad as she dropped the sorting hat over the head of another student.

The charmed ceiling over the great hall twinkled matching the sky visible through the enormous, slender windows that lined the room. There was a shimmer of silver off in the distance – the great lake, still as glass and somehow threatening in its silence.

_That was it_, thought Lily, she was the last one left. Pre-empting the woman on stage, Lily braved the steps and paced over to the stool, seating herself and waiting for the hat to fall over her head.

The audience went quiet. It took a long time to sort the young flame-haired witch. Even the headmaster, usually absently hunting out sugar-cherries, dipped forward awaiting the result of the sorting.

When _Gryffindor_ was finally shouted, Snape's heart fell. The table beside him roared and howled with excitement as Lily traipsed over to it but she merely feigned a smile, took a seat directly opposite Severus and waved sadly.

The headmaster wasn't the only one eyeing the new Gryffindor with curiosity – at the head of Slytherin's table, a bleach-blond haired head boy wrapped his fingers around his goblet but did not raise it to his lips. Lucius Malfoy couldn't help but notice the despair in his house's newest member and the interest the boy showed in the Gryffindor girl.

Finally deciding what to do, he motioned to a second year. Miss Rosier approached the head boy, eagerly awaiting his order.

"Aurelia..." he hissed, "go welcome our new addition."

Aurelia Rosier followed the prefect's line of sight to a small, desperately pale looking boy. She'd rather _not_ spend her night playing with it but did as she was told. Aurelia had just shuffled in next to Snape when silence fell over the room and all eyes moved to the headmaster.

Professor Dumbledore stood up to his full, rather impressive height, and strode calmly to the lectern – pale blue robes falling everywhere. The golden owl on the lectern's front unfurled its enchanted wings as he came to a stop behind it.

"Welcome, welcome ," he started warmly, making certain to lay his gaze over the whole room. He had a great talent for making everybody feel that his eyes were upon them, something he did without the need for magic. "1971 – a very special year. 60th anniversary of _Witches in Concert_, three years since the establishment of the _Dragon Charmer's Alliance for Dangerous Beasts that you Shouldn't Approach_ – and of course," he paid no attention to the bewildered looks of both his staff and students who were positive he made most of this up, "it is exactly 1000 years since the establishment of Hogwarts."

Several of the senior teachers frowned quizzically in Dumbledore's direction. To their knowledge, nobody knew the true date of the foundation of the school and unless the headmaster had made an astonishing discovery and chosen not to share it, he must have picked a number out of a hat and randomly decided to celebrate it – something he did quite often.

"In honour of such an impressive year, you will each find gifts awaiting you in your dormitories. Be forewarned, they are for the advancement of your mind, not idle play."

There was a general murmur of awe. Dumbledore, ominous as usual, traded a quick look with his notes resting on the lectern.

"First years," he continued, "your traditional crossing of the lake had to be sadly abandoned due to a sea-serpent that is taking amnesty within our grounds. Hogwarts is not only a school but a refuge. I do, _sincerely_, apologise. Perhaps when the creature is settled, she may allow students to return to the lake.

"No doubt you've noticed the prominent gap in our staff – Professor Slughorn is taking his leave of us this year therefore you will be placed in the very capable hands of a scholarly man whose only lacking quality is a sense of timing. Late, granted, but definitely brilliant, Sir Olaus Wormius will make your acquaintance at breakfast tomorrow.

"And now, a notice from Mr Filch," Dumbledore held up a scrap of filthy paper to prove it. "He would like to inform first years and _remind_ everybody else that the restricted section of the library is just that. Persons caught lurking in corridors after lights out will face detention – and I can promise that it won't just be scrubbing the dungeons," there was a groan from older years that suggested Filch's punishments were real and had been endured. "Though I will endeavour to ensure that punishments match their crimes, rather than exceed them.

"A final note, Professor Sprout has imported a _very expensive and rare _willow tree which has been planted on the grounds. All students are forewarned that this is an enchanted tree with a nasty temper. If you survive its mood, your remains, however small they be, will be donated to St Mungos for research."

Sirius, James, Peter and Lupin saw that as a challenge and made a note to seek out the tree at the earliest opportunity.

"Welcome," he said once again, "to Hogwarts."

After watching a brooding boy that looked _remarkably_ like his dark-haired friend, James leant over and whispered to Sirius, "Is that one of yours?"

"Oh him, yeah," Sirius doesn't even bother to look at his younger brother seated amongst the nest of Slytherins. "Like I said, family curse."

Regulus Black sneered and returned to eating, already planning the owl he would send his parents – they would be _furious_ that a Black had betrayed Slytherin and entered the ranks of Gryffindor.

Snape meanwhile, hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to Aurelia Rosier, who had tried tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. Irritated, she turned her head and glared back at Lucius. '_Go on_...' he insisted with a cold look.

"Hey – ah," Aurelia should have paid more attention to the boy's name when it was called, "_you..._"

Snape gradually turned to face the short, skinny witch with a mop of dark hair hanging limp in messy tangles. He didn't say anything – merely stared at her questioningly.

"Don't worry about _her_," said Aurelia unkindly, hinting at Lily. "Gryffindors are all the same, she'll forget you soon enough."

This time, Snape glowered severely and turned his back on Aurelia. He resumed his staring at the table opposite. Snape found Lily still there, endeavouring to show him the miniature dragon confetti flying on its own through the air. She blew one of the tiny beasts over to him. It landed on his shoulder, happily roaming up and down over his black cloak until it dissolved in a wave of red glitter.

They stayed like this – stolen grins and silly gestures until the noise of the great hall reached fever pitch, the clock struck eleven o'clock and it was decided that the house prefects should take their houses to their respective dormitories.

Slytherin left first, snaking out the doorway in a black and green line with Severus Snape bringing up the rear. The trek to Slytherin's common room was confusing and the first years quickly forgot where they were as Lucius Malfoy took them down and down endless corridors and stairwells.

Eventually, the low stone ceilings, slippery and wet, transformed into a semi-transparent surface with dark waters swirling on top. It felt like the wrong side of a glass bottom boat as they entered the common room, sunk even further into the ground. It had emerald green carpets and silver cushions scattered over the leather couches. Three fireplaces burned, scattered through the hallway-like room. At each end was a staircase (leading further down, of course) separating the dormitories into girls and boys. The older year groups, at home with the dorm, quickly settled in their preferred lurks and watched curiously as the young ones trailed into their bedrooms.

Snape's bed was at the far end, next to the wall which was perpetually cold. Its glum surface was the only thing keeping the great pressure of the lake at bay. On his bed was a small parcel wrapped in silver. It soon became clear that everybody had one – Dumbledore's compliments.

Tired, he put it to one side unopened and climbed into bed.

Lily's bedroom was also by the wall, but her wall had a window and a view out over the fields toward the forbidden forest and the lakes to the right. She could easily see the next range of mountains – a darker smear on the night and the faintest outlines of the world lit by an assortment of glittering stars.

There was a beautifully ornate snufflebox on her bed, peeking out from its paper wrappings and inside it was a reel of spello-tape with the helpful tag, _'for all the things you are likely to break'_.

_Apt_, she thought.

There was no way that she could sleep so instead she clambered up onto the large, wide window sill and leant against it, resting her head. Her side of the double window was open to the night – which was warm and carried the most familiar scent of _calm_.

It could have been minutes but it was probably hours that she sat there, looking into nowhere, when the peace was disturbed by a rush of air. It started as a tiny speck bouncing about on the night but steadily it got closer and the sound of the broomstick riding the air strengthened. Lily perked up and leant her head out the window as a man, suitcase tied to the back of the broom and with endless feet of amber robes gushing around him, swooped up toward the castle.

Closer and closer he came until she could easily make out his beard and overly-curled moustache. Hidden beneath a set of serious eyebrows were the same eyes she'd seen on her first venturing into the wizarding world. She couldn't imagine what she must look like, red hair flying everywhere, perched on a window sill.

Olaus Wormius winked at the small student he had seen in the Leaky Cauldron and veered up toward the roof of Gryffindor tower.

*~*~*

"Late..." observed Albus Dumbledore quietly, as the man flew in over the crest of the rooftop and touched down lightly on the stone.

Olaus de-mounted his broom which continued to hover behind him. The moonlight made the world gleam and shudder and for the first time, Olaus appreciated the truly wild countryside at Hogwarts.

"Considering how far I've come tonight..." he trailed off, as the warm wind kick through his hair. Olaus clasped his hands behind his back and paced around the low stone wall separating them from the sharp drop.

*~*~*

Traipsing under the weight of sleep deprivation, students gradually began to pack the main hall for breakfast. After the splendour of the opening evening, the room looked positively normal, sedate even as people quietly chewed and read their mail.

The staff table, forever lurking at the far end closest the towering windows, was fully occupied. The missing member from last night was hunched over the table, scribbling something with an oversized peacock quill. The ever-watchful witch beside him, Professor McGonagall, was once again dressed in brilliant green, clashing with her neighbour's golden robes that looked as if they could house fiend-fire should the need arise.

Lily spied the first group of Slytherins slink into the room and take to their usual table. She couldn't see Snape until the group parted and took their seats, unfurling as it were, to reveal his slightly better kept form

He definitely looked better for a night spent indoors and the promise of food perked his mood up enough to raise a wary smile at fellow Slytherin Rosier who'd been doing her best to explain the route to the common room. He didn't truly smile though, until he saw Lily rise from Gryffindor's table and cross the room.

Despite _fierce _glares, she sat herself at the very end of Slytherin's table next to Snape and waited for him to say something as it appeared she couldn't.

A playful gleam rippled across his dark eyes.

"You're a _witch_..." he said softly, mimicking his tone from when they first met.

"So it would seem..." she picked a piece of toast from his plate. "Have you met our old friend?" she pointed past him to the staff table where Sir Wormius continued to scribble frantically, flipping through the pages of his journal.

Snape narrowed his eyes and, though it could hardly make a difference, edged forward.

"The man from that bar?" he observed. "Of course..." he finally remembered, "Professor Dumbledore mentioned that he would be starting the school term. It never occurred to me that he would be our teacher. Do you know what of?"

"Potions," she replied quickly, having already quizzed some friendly members of her house, "and Ancient Runes – apparently a speciality of his. It's the first time the course has been offered to first years – and it is our happy fortune to be his very first students."

"You haven't got a clue what _Ancient Runes_ are, do you?"

Lily blushed. "No..."

"Neither do I," he admitted, managing to snap his last piece of toast before she got to it

"Is it just me, or is he staring _directly_ at us?"

Snape's eyes wandered over to the staff table, and sure enough Sir Wormius had stopped scribbling and instead had lowered his golden eyes to the red speck on the otherwise green table.

"So it would seem..." Snape copied Lily perfectly.

"As head of your house," Lily said quietly, "he's probably wondering why a Gryffindor is sitting at his table."

But maybe they imagined it, for a second later, Sir Wormius had pushed his chair out and stood up, bringing the eyes of the room down on him.

"Forgive my absence last evening," he began in a soft but strong voice that carried the room without effort. "My name is Sir – not Professor, Wormius and your headmaster has been kind enough to invite me into your school this year to teach two subjects, Potions and my own personal favourite, Ancient Runes. First years, you will each get to trial my class for a week before deciding if you would like to continue, everybody else, there is a time table posted on the wall outside the hall – if you would like to take my class, simply show up. I will not hold it against you during next Potions if I don't see your eager faces there."

Lily wasn't so sure about that. There was something shallow about his benevolence.

Once he had returned to his seat, Lily turned back to Snape. "What did you get from Professor Dumbledore? I got a snufflebox with spello-tape... same as everybody else."

"Non-explodable luminous balloons..." Snape shrugged. "Same as everyone in my house."

"Professor Dumbledore really is _odd_," she said, ignoring several sideways looks from her own table and the drift of eyes from Slytherin's prefect.

"At least yours is useful," he offered, "I can't think what I'm going to do with a pack of glowing balloons – except let them drift up to the ceiling – there's at least a dozen already bobbing about in our common room."

There were a few shrieks as a giant owl swooped through the open window and took a low pass at the Slytherin table, hunting for its owner. Merlin caught sight of Lily and pulled to a stop mid-air and landed on the table knocking several goblets of juice over.

A horrified Slytherin boy nearly choked on his breakfast and then exclaimed, _"Gosh! Is that your owl?"_

Merlin dropped an envelope into Lily's lap and then happily pecked at the plate of sausages, not aware that it had become the centre of attention.

"Careful," Lily cautioned, when the Slytherin boy reached out to pat the owl, "he bites – and so do I."

Regulus Black took that has a challenge. "You're not the only one," he replied, and then made sure that she and Snape followed his line of sight to the Ravenclaw girl that had not touched her food all morning. "Lorcan d'Eath," he informed them, "wouldn't trust her round my neck for nothing."

Lily, still unsure of the depth of the magical world and all its entails, wondered if she simply disliked a full English breakfast and sported a bad temper.

"Vampire..." Black continued, "no joke."

Both Lily and Snape failed to stop their eyes widening in shock.

"Vampires _exist_?" she said, in horrified awe at Regulus.

That was when Regulus Black realised what he was talking to – _a Mudblood_.


	7. Ancient Magic

_**Sorry for the delay - I've been on holiday literally in the middle of nowhere - it was a bit like falling off the face of the earth but in a good way lol :D Thank you very much for the reviews! Anyway, late but present and accounted for, chapter 7**_

* * *

Despite Regulus's dark thoughts on the topic, he chose to say _nothing_ – besides, the little Mudblood had a savage looking owl that even he had to admire. There was a cold flicker in Regulus's stare as he lowered his eyes back to the table and made no further conversation.

Lily had lost interest in the unfriendly Slytherin anyway and instead turned her attention to the letter Merlin had brought her. The first thing she noticed was that it had been opened, not surprising she reasoned, when she saw how poorly it had been addressed.

_Lily Evans – Magic School_

Professor McGonagall's name was signed underneath with the addition of, _'Gryffindor – Great Hall'_. Lily only wished that she'd gotten the chance to watch her mother use an _owl_ to post mail – as she hated, beyond anything else, birds of prey.

"It's from my mother," Lily answered Snape's silent question, then opened the Muggle-style envelope.

There was a single piece of folded paper inside with a short message wishing her well in the new school and wanting to know if she was okay. It also bore an addition from her father which insisted she reply at once to stop her mother fretting, or, as he put it, _'sending everybody mad with her irrational panic'_.

She looked up and inspected the Slytherin table – searching its contents thoroughly until she spied a small green notepad hidden between the jug of orange juice and a discarded newspaper. Lily stood up and stretched over to it, pulling a sheet free before sitting back down.

_That_ raised a few eyebrows amongst the table, mainly because it was Slytherin embossed paper, not something that Gryffindors usually chose to write on. Still, it was nothing compared to the lofty heights that their eyebrows reached when she produced a ballpoint pen from her coat and started scrawling a neat reply. Finished, Severus taught her how to tie it securely onto Merlin's leg and the owl hopped off – but not before tumbling a few more goblets.

"Are you going to write to your parents?" she asked, rolling the pen between her fingers. A few people around them whispered and pointed to the Muggle object as the silver shaft dipped and shifted.

Snape's mouth twisted into a rare smile, "Hardly – wouldn't want to give them the bad news..." Lily's brow furrowed into an adorable set of creases. "That I'd arrived safely," he joked, even though it was part truth.

Quickly looking for a suitable change of topic, Severus eyed a large pile of books at the abandoned seat on the Gryffindor table.

"Are those yours?" he asked curiously. The pile was at least five hefty books high. Two he recognised as school text books – _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ and _Standard Book of Spells_ but the others were tattered things that had been fumbled by too many careless students.

"Oh those," Lily didn't bother following his gaze. "I went to the library this morning and –"

"You went to the library – _already_?" _Gosh_ thought Snape, she'd only been on the grounds twelve hours. He didn't even know where the library was.

"Before breakfast," she continued. "After," Lily was going to say, _you were hexed last night,_ "last night, I wanted to know more about the difference between Hexes, Charms, Curses and Spells – I had no idea how many different types of magic there were."

"That's what _school's _for," muttered James Potter, wandering in on their conversation.

Lily's smile turned to a sneer at the sight of him. Severus shifted uncomfortably.

"Why are you here?" she kept her tone in check, but her meaning was dead clear.

James shrugged, folding his arms into his slightly-too-big cloak. "At a young age it was determined that I possessed a natural magical ability so my –"

"Not _at this school_," she interrupted with contempt, "why are you here, _in front of me_, ruining a perfectly pleasant morning?"

James's blue eyes flared. Maybe Sirius was right about her – maybe she _was_ a challenge.

"I am simply here carrying out teacher's orders," he bent forward and tilted his head so that both Lily and Snape followed his eye line to the empty seat at the staff table where Sir Wormius had been a moment ago. "Apparently we must leave now if we are to make it to class on time. It's a fair walk across the grounds."

She may not have thanked him but failing to injure or curse him was enough of a result to decide the bet between Sirius and Lupin.

"She would have hexed you," complained Lupin, handing over his ration of spello-tape over to Sirius as James returned to the Gryffindor table, "only she didn't know how."

"Hence her collection of books," James nodded at Lily's teetering pile, craning his neck just enough to glance at their titles. Suddenly he was pushed aside by an angry blur of red and he realised that Lily was there, snatching the books away while flinging murderous looks in his direction. When she was gone, Sirius let out a chuckle.

"She really _hates you_," he lounged along the bench, stretched out like some kind of feral animal.

James shook his head, "We had a bad start, that's all..."

"James..." Lupin had to admit, "she's borrowed, _Revenge – A Sweet Thing_ from the library on the first day of school. That's not _bad_, that's _fatal_. Oh cripes!" he noticed the distinct lack of people engaging in breakfast. "Everyone's left already!"

*~*~*

The flock of first year students tentatively squeezed through Hogwarts' ancient, creaking front doors and out into the sunshine. All around them the world glistened with dew creating a sparkling mirage of green across the lawns that led down to the dark edge of forest encircling the school. The lake, placid as always, lapped gently at the muddy edges but Severus thought he caught a stray swirl of water.

Severus and Lily were toward the end of the procession. Way down in front, nearly out of sight, was the bright yellow figure of Wormius leading the way to his outdoor classroom. They were too green to notice that it was highly unusual to conduct lessons outside – unless you were Madam Hooch – and nobody could blame her for that. Broomsticks and young children rarely mixed well.

The procession snaked its way around a small, abandoned shack and tagged onto the edge of a narrow path hardly more than an old goat track.

Lily stumbled slightly and had to cling tightly to her fast destabilising pile of books. They were heavy and unruly in her tiny arms but she had too much pride to accept help. Snape risked a sideways glance at her when she misjudged the edge of the path and fought to keep a grin in check. _Stubborn,_ he thought, as her loosely curled hair caught in the wind and grazed his shoulder.

The closest trio of students, a couple of chatty Ravenclaws and a lost Hufflepuff, gasped as they rounded the corner ahead. Snape and Lily soon discovered why. Pitched on the sparkling lawn was a structure resembling a tent – only it wasn't like any Muggle tent either of them had ever encountered.

This was a cluster of tree-trunks with bark intact and the branches sawn off positioned in a rough rectangle. Strung between them was a finely woven cloth that rippled in the light breeze. Several enchantments had been placed over it keeping it warm and dry inside where a few long desks and benches posed as a classroom.

The desks had started to fill with students and as Lily and Snape ducked in under the soft silk wall they saw the only place left to them was the bench at the very front. With all eyes on them, they both bravely sat themselves down and stared at Sir Wormius – who had his back to the class.

Sir Wormius's golden robes rustled in the breeze making them as elusive as the rays of sun bending over the hills behind the tent. His elegantly styled beard and outrageously curled moustache were not a smooth brown but instead harboured flecks of grey. He seemed remarkably imperturbable, standing there as the whispers rose like a chorus amongst the students. Still, his eyes surveyed the filtered scene beyond the undulating fabric, waiting for something.

Ragged breathing and a flurry of black robes burst into the tent. Four Gryffindor boys all but _fell_ into the makeshift classroom, dripping with sweat and lacking any semblance of a textbook. Momentarily stunned, they remained in a panting conglomerate between the desks.

"Please..." Sir Wormius slowly exhaled, his voice hardly breaking from his mouth. He was not angry or impatient, merely firm with his instruction. "Be seated."

Lily and Snape had already realised the horrible truth – that the despised group of students would have no choice but to slide in next to them filling the only remaining seats. Through some silent vote, Peter Wormtail, the smallest, scruffiest member was pushed up next to a displeased Snape followed by Sirius, Lupin and finally James. Nothing was said, but the hostility could be felt by the whole room, including Sir Wormius.

"Is this your first class?" Sir Wormius addressed the room, spinning smoothly around to face them.

His question was answered with a general nod. They were frightened, he could tell and Olaus was glad. Only those that feared magic could ever truly respect it.

"Ah..." his voiced nearly fell into a hiss. "I pity your poor souls. You are here to learn magic, are you not? I see you all staring at your wands as if it is an unruly pet. Pick it up now, nice and firmly."

A few rolled their eyes and swiped their wands boredly into their hands but the rest, like Lily, hesitated and then, ever so gently, wrapped their tiny fingers around the smooth wood of their wands.

"Your wand is a part of you," continued Sir Wormius. "It will serve you so long as you are loyal to the thousands of years of magical artistry that have gone into its making. What you hold is not only a channel for the making of spells but a living history. Now put it back down. We do not require wands in this class – only the subtleties of the mind."

They obeyed, and on command opened their standard textbook, _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ to the very last page and recited the short inscription written there.

_In days that will never pass, times which shan't be counted – you will ne'er learn nor read nor hear the secrets written here._

His moustache twitched. The students looked up, having finished reciting. He stepped aside, revealing a large rock half buried in the grass at his feet. It was near on four feet high and riddled with growing patches of lichen. Its dark grey surface was blemished by milky cracks of granite. Etched slightly off centre was the wing of a dragon, traced out with rudimentary skill, simple but definite as if the rock had grown for the precise purpose of preserving this image. At the top of the stone were several lines of symbols – some ancient text that had been worn off and lost at the edges by hundreds of years.

"This," Sir Wormius laid his long, bony fingers onto the stone, "is a typical Runestone found here by the founders of Hogwarts. It was left in its original place not out of posterity but because it _could not be moved_. Would anyone like to hazard a guess as to why?"

Several hands shot into the air, rocking backwards and forwards hoping to be picked. Lily, usually a bright student, was unnerved by her total lack of knowledge. Never one to be defeated, she decided to do something rash and brave – she raised her hand.

"Miss Evans?" Sir Wormius nodded in her direction – she was mortified.

"Magic?" she trembled, slowly lowering her hand to the wooden bench, hoping against hope that her wild guess was right. A satisfied grin spread over Sir Wormius's face at once.

"Yes," he beamed down at her, "magic. Powerful magic rooting our stone to this place in the earth that not even the power of the collective founders could penetrate. The inscriptions you can see here and the writing – _Elder Futhark_ – date from 160 C.E. What you have just read is a contemporary translation of its text."

History. Rocks. _Boring!_ Surmised Sirius, whose wand had snuck back out. With an already dashing smile accentuated by a row of sparkling teeth (bar the gap on the bottom where a missing tooth was slowly being replaced), Sirius eyed a beetle wandering across the bench top. Its serrated feelers tapped the wood, blindly moving toward the dangerous figure of Sirius.

Hiding his wand in his sleeve, he tapped it on the table very gently and muttered, _Prosurosa_. To his surprise, the beetle's dull brown shell immediately turned a lurid pink.

James, Lupin and Peter snickered quietly, admiring Sirius's work. They'd all been practising that charm in the common room last night, turning other boy's bed sheets and pyjamas pink but this was the first time they'd tried it on a living creature. Nobody else had noticed, including Sir Wormius who continued his lecture blissfully unaware.

"The oldest Runestone found by a Muggle or non-magic institution is the Einangsteinen stone in Norway dated in the region of 400 C.E. They are aware of around three thousand stones and assume them to be a mixture of burial monuments, legend recordings and historical documentation however, as Miss Evans has pointed out, these stones are protected by magic...

"Turn to page twelve," he instructed them, and the flicking of pages filled the air.

James and Sirius looked dumbly at the blank space in front of them where text books should have been. Peter and Lupin did no better and the four of them suffered a scornful glance that told them that Sir Wormius had noted their absence.

"What you see is a list of the twenty-two thousand known Runestones dating as far back as 6 500 B.C.E. For nearly all of our magical history, witches and wizards have been hiding Runestones, protecting them from the world not because of the fragmented and sentimental history they contain but for the secrets hidden beneath their surface."

Sir Wormius turned his full attention to the stone, moving in front of it and kneeling down into the grass. He placed his hands wither side of it and slowly dragged them over the flat surface, whispering something as he traced out patterns with his fingertips. The class watched silently, debating the sanity of their eccentric teacher.

Snape and Lily had a perfect view. The unbroken chant was an incantation and the more he repeated it, the more hazy the surface of the stone became. It was like a hot layer of air on a tar road and the original inscriptions were merely a facade – a lie – one that was splintering and finally shattered.

Olaus sank back onto his knees, drained from the effort. The stone now revealed dozens of columns of strange pictograms in some other, more ancient language. He took a moment and then returned to his feet and continued.

"I present to you _Kalio Wiedzie__ć__ – _a healing spell that forms the basis of most modern medical spells. The first homework of your school career will be to complete one roll of parchment on the effect this stone has had on medical magic."

There was a groan.

"And that," said Olaus with amusement, "is the true sound of a class. Come on, brighten up, we're going on an excursion."

Their new teacher was either naturally restless or trying to be overly impressive in his first lecture, attempting to lure students into his elective class. Without waiting to see if he was being followed, Olaus roamed out into the now bright sun and headed back toward the castle.

Having been seated at the front, Lily and Snape were now last to exit, along with the four menaces who were now killing themselves with roars of gasping laughter.

"Are we going to be stalked all year by them?" asked Lily, ducking out of the tent with Snape in tow. He fell into step beside, striding over the uneven ground next to the path.

"I'm glad they're in your house and not mine," he replied, genuinely enjoying the hurried walk through the grounds. Snape loved the outdoors – always had. It represented peace, a place where he couldn't hear his parents screaming at one another.

"You have no idea," she picked up the pace to distance them from the four behind. "Last night, ProfessorMcGonagall had to come into the boy's dormitory and quieten them down. I don't know what they were doing but she was there for about ten minutes. Your house seems nice and quiet."

"Quiet but unfriendly," he corrected her. "So far I've only met one person who hasn't tried to interrogate me about my family history. _Where are we going?_"

Their teacher had led them around the side of the school building to a set of hidden stairs at the base of the castle's highest turret. The old stone steps led all the way to the top – a long way up. Lily shot the heavy books in her arms a disapproving look but couldn't bring herself to deposit them at the base of the stairs.

"It would be just my luck that we'll go down a different way," she sighed, beginning the sharp incline.

"Seriously, _here_," Snape took two of the books from her and added them to his own pile. To his surprise, she didn't protest.

Lagging behind, Sirius, James, Peter and Lupin were still congratulating themselves over the pink bug and were now hunting for other objects to flex their new skills on.

"It's got to be alive," insisted Sirius.

James turned to his friend with a devious grin. "You'd look good pink," he said, raising his wand teasingly.

"And you'd look good _dead_," he replied, deadpan. Sirius turned to Lupin, "Double or nothing we can both turn James's hair a lovely new shade..."

Peter kept quiet, hoping they wouldn't notice him. He was more of a shadow to the group, an addition that had snuck in without either being noticed or objected to.

In a single movement, all four of them caught sight of Lily and Snape clambering up the stairs some distance in front of them.

"_Yes..."_ whispered Sirius, already raising his wand.

Lupin felt his stomach sink. He liked rules, he really did and he hated being in trouble. He had no doubt that what was about to happen would both break a dozen rules _and_ get him into trouble. Lots of trouble.

"If I get expelled," Lupin withdrew his wand from within his tattered, old robes that were soggy along the edges from the lawn, "I'm taking you all down with me."

"Fair enough," James accepted Lupin's terms. "But it's going to be worth it."

The four of them raised their wands in unison and softly muttered, _Prosurosa!_ Then they went very quiet.

_*~*~*_

They were nearly at the top, already overlooking the majority of Hogwarts. Beneath the wall they were scrambling next to was the Astronomy tower and for a moment Snape mourned the fact that they would have to hike this elevation frequently throughout the term.

He had been idly explaining the concealment charms making Hogwarts invisible to Muggles when he noticed that Lily had stopped and was now staring at him, her face paused in shock.

"What?" Snape asked innocently. "We can stop if you like?" he offered, but Lily shook her head. She couldn't bring herself to say the words. "Lily – you look as if you saw a ghost. Seriously – are y-" but then he saw it. It was the briefest flutter of colour across his eye as the wind kicked his hair over his face. It was pink. Bright pink. Hideous pink and it drowned his greasy hair.


	8. No Need for a Broom

_**Sorry for the random delay in updates - I was traveling and then I got a tad distracted by work lol But here we go, better late than never :D  
**_

* * *

"P – _pink..._" it was all she could manage to say as she watched Severus fumble a few strands of his hair, catching them as they plastered themselves across his forehead. Oh yes, they were definitely _pink_; a horrid, lurid, violent shade of pink.

He was so horrified that he couldn't even reply. The natural shine in his hair only made the pink worse. _That was it_, he thought, _his life was over and_ – his ears pricked up, interrupting his thoughts when he heard the first quiet giggles coming from behind.

Snape let his hair escape from between his long fingers. Lily's books were left forgotten on the step where they had fallen as he turned, very slowly and as threateningly as possible, to the four boys at the base of the staircase. This was no accident. What it looked like was a dare – one that would lead to the _death_ of all involved. He was about to make his move when the red head beside beat him to it.

Lily was all for peace and harmony but right at this moment she could feel her blood simmering. Unlike Snape, who had somehow produced his wand and raised it at them, Lily placed her books carefully on the stone steps, rolled up the sleeves of her cloak and began descending the stairs with a look of fury that made the boys swallow.

Snape was transfixed by the sight. Yes, he probably should have made an attempt to stop her, but with his pink hair flying about in the breeze all he could do was watch as Lily approached the only boy still holding their wand.

_Remus Lupin_, she snarled to herself. Of course it was him. It was _always_ him.

Lupin started to stutter her name almost pleadingly as she left the last step and made short work of the grass between them. If he had been hoping for assistance from his 'friends', Lupin couldn't have been more mistaken as, _Merlin on a perch_ – they backed off into a circle around the hostile pair.

"I'm going to take your wand," she hissed angrily, "and snap into TINY pieces so small you'll have to use James's ugly glasses to find them!"

Lupin wailed in panic, trying to remove his wand to the safety of Sirius's hand – only Sirius was far too amused to be of use. How did he always end up in these messes?

It was right about now that Lupin was starting to wish that he'd learnt more spells before coming to school. He'd had his school books for _months_, plenty of time to sift through for some useful defensive spells but all he had at his disposal were a couple of childish hexes, none of which he was game to use after the dressing down Professor McGonagall had given him earlier. Lily, on the other hand, didn't look like she intended to use magic at all.

"Shit Remus," James had backed further away, and was now without his glasses, "I reckon she's going to hit you."

Oh yes, she fully intended to hit him. Lily raised her hand, wound her arm back. Lupin yelped at shrank into the ground as best he could even though he knew it wouldn't protect him. Her green eyes were positively vivid with hate and she didn't hear Severus's sharp intake of breath as he clutched his own wand dumbly. And then – then nothing. Her arm seemed to be stuck there in the air, held by invisible glue and try as she might to bring it down on the shaking Lupin, it simply refused to budge.

"That won't be necessary," an almost bored voice approached. Sir Wormius had his wand pointed at the enraged girl, preventing her from earning herself a detention.

Lily tried for the last time to tug her arm from the air but Wormius kept it suspended, safely out of reach of its target.

"Please," he eyed Miss Evans sternly as he made his way down the stairs, nearly on par with Snape, "I will not be so generous if you keep on insisting."

Even Professor Wormius had to stop and take in the sight of the poor, pink haired boy. It was – no, he wouldn't laugh but he had no doubt that other, lesser mortals would be unable to restrain themselves.

"Lower the wand," he eyed Snape in warning as he continued toward Evans, who had stopped struggling and taken to glaring dangerously.

"Really..." he sighed, stopping beside the conglomerate of children. "I was warned that Gryffindors could be trouble but is it necessary for you _all_ to be trouble?"

They were silenced by a mixture of guilt and fear, Lily's arm still looming above Lupin.

"Now's your chance to escape, young Lupin. I will not restrain Miss Evans indefinitely."

He didn't need to be told twice.

Something in Snape's mind clicked back on. He quickly made his way down the stairs to join the others with his wand loosely held in his hand in a deliberately non-threatening manner.

Wormius flicked his wand and Lily's arm fell from the air. Next, he turned to Snape and Lily. Their eyes were wide and blinking rapidly.

"Even though you probably deserve it, Miss Evans, I haven't the heart to give you detention. You two can wait for me on the roof. Dismissed." They scurried off as he turned his attention to the remaining students. "You four, on the other hand," Wormius continued, raising his wand menacingly at them, "will be joining me in the dungeons tonight – 7.00pm _sharp_. Yes, Mr. Lupin, I am well aware that you have a, shall we say, _prior engagement_ with you head of house. Never fear, there will be plenty of time for you to join us afterwards."

*~*~*

The four boys swooped past Severus and Lily without so much as a glance in their direction as they crossed the stone rooftop and joined the rest of the class on the far side. Sir Wormius was not far behind them and all too soon he stood in front of the nervous pair, eyeing them as if considering what to do.

"And – us?" Lily prompted him. Snape was scowling so hard that Wormius was sure he would crack a castle wall.

"Ah yes, the troublesome two," he sighed, putting four wands into his robes. Lily couldn't hide her look of satisfaction. He had confiscated their wands. "You will remain right here for the remainder of the lesson transcribing these stones," he pointed to a line of five stones embedded in the wall behind them. "You will hand in the parchment to me this afternoon following lunch."

With that, he turned theatrically, robes swirling about in a dazzling shower of light as he sauntered off toward the patiently waiting class.

"It's not so bad," she said softly, now that they were alone, but even Lily couldn't hide the lie behind her doe-eyes. It was horrendous – anyone within a thousand miles would be able to pick Severus's shock of hair.

"Can we not talk about that?" he muttered, roaming over to the first stone. Snape's cheeks were unnaturally red with embarrassment and would probably remain so until the hair colour wore off – which wouldn't be for days.

She joined him and, on impulse, propped herself up on the low wall and cast her eye down to the ground below. A fresh wind gusted up to meet her and she realised just how high up they were. The trees below were tiny, more like toys. She could see a class on the far side of the oval separated into lines with a tiny dot pacing between them. All of a sudden, several of the dots began floating up and she reasoned that they must be on brooms like Sir Wormius had been last night.

"Whenever you're ready," snapped Snape, still in a foul mood. He had a piece of parchment laid out for her and a quill with a bottle of ink settled, slightly lopsided on the uneven floor.

Lily left her pile of books on the stone wall and seated herself on the ground next to Snape. It was clear that he wanted her to do the writing while he read the stones aloud but there was _no way _that she was going to use the quill – forever dipping it in and out of the messy ink. She liked her hands ink-free.

The rest of their class had now wandered out of sight – probably back into the castle. It was strange being alone on Hogwarts' roof. She'd never personified buildings before but this one was oddly alive and ever so slightly hostile.

Snape was not surprised when Lily pulled out her muggle pen once more and whispered, "Ready..."

To their collective disappointment, the stones weren't Runestones at all but inscriptions left by the founders of Hogwarts. Snape read their faint etchings slowly as Lily scratched away at the parchment working her way down the scroll. It was dull work but they finished just as their time was up.

Determined to enjoy a few more minutes of peace before their next class, Lily returned to the wall. This time, Severus joined her, leaning on the wall will his elbows touching hers. It was a kind of comfort – just being there, next to each other enjoying their lofty vantage point as silent observers to the world when suddenly there was an portentous _'crack'_ and the ground beneath them shuddered.

Lily grasped his arm instinctively as both the wall and ground around them gave way.

Everything was crumbling – ancient stones which had held fast to their primitive magic binds finally sighed and relished the freedom of the long fall toward the lawn. Accompanying the stones were half a dozen books – pages flared as they tumbled, and two frightened students clinging desperately to each other in a unified scream.

*~*~*

Professor McGonagall graded her first paper of the term – holiday homework from her fourth years. She was tempted to add an extra few marks for the simple fact that it was one of only a select few that had made it to her desk, when a curious blur caught her attention. Casually, she observed as two students fell past her window and out of sight, quickly followed by a frightened shrill that faded in and out.

She looked back down at the essay and added a 'plus' sign to the B before her mouth fell open and her eyes snapped back up to the window, realising what she had just seen.

*~*~*

Their eyes were slammed shut in anticipation of the impact. They were not even bothering to scream anymore as their collective end approached. Lily's grip strengthened as she heard the rocks thud onto the ground in a wave and then – then – then...

Her eyes crept open before she realised that they were no longer falling. The remaining stones and books rushed past them, splaying open on the ground which Lily was shocked to find was three or so metres below them. They weren't falling – they were _hovering_. To be more precise, _Lily_ was hovering and Severus was dangling from her arms, suspended in her tight hold.

"Sev-severus!" she squealed, and his eyes opened, finding hers immediately.

Severus was sure that he was dead, and the shining eyes staring at him did nothing to rattle his belief. It wasn't until she physically shook him that he saw what she had.

"Wha-" he tried to ask, but whatever magic had held them in the air suddenly vanished and they fell the remaining distance to the ground and landed in a pile.

It hurt – but it didn't kill them.

Severus flinched, rolling off Lily to cradle his knee which had hit the ground first. Pulling up his robes he saw a black mark spreading over his skin with frightening pace. Next, he searched for his wand, relieved to find it whole and unscathed.

Lily hissed at the red stain trickling around her wrist. Her arm had landed on one of the rocks from the roof. A nasty slice burned across her skin, open and raw. Shocked, she clasped at it with her other hand and moaned.

He noticed it immediately and wasted no time diving for one of the books that lay open beside him. The _Standard Book of Spells_ was opened roughly and Snape's index finger scanned down the index until he found what he was looking for, flipped it to the relevant page and quickly skimmed the spell. Hoping against hope that it wasn't a difficult spell, he pointed his wand at Lily's wrist.

She looked at him questioningly before removing her other hand.

'_Reparo!'_ he said firmly, and to his surprise a small spark of light flew out of his wand, hit Lily's wrist and had _absolutely no effect_. Uh oh, she was frowning at him with a look that could have been directed at Potter.

"Are you _mad?_" she snarled, grasping her wrist again. "I'm a _human_ not a piece of crockery!"

He was about to apologise when a frantic shadow fell over them.

"Heavens above!" exclaimed McGonagall, eyeing them both with a tremendous sigh of relief and scorn. Further words escaped her. It was evident by the mess on the lawn that she hadn't imagined them falling from the roof, what she couldn't determine is how in the name of all that is magic, they had survived. Still, try as she might, she could _not_ rip her eyes away from the boy's hair. It was just so – _pink._


	9. Beneath a Pile of Books

_**This is the last chapter in which everybody plays nice... LOL**_

* * *

The library mistress had been glaring at him for a good hour as he pawed through the pages of Lily's books. Thankfully, it wasn't his hair that the old woman focused her stare on – it was the questionable pile of books towering beside him.

Even he had to admit that Lily's choice of reading material was – _interesting_, if not fascinating. _Standard Book of Spells_ read like the textbook it was but _Revenge – A Sweet Thing_ was quite an experience that had him enthralled.

The afternoon was waning, as was his reading light. He had already wasted time delivering the parchment on which Lily had transcribed the mysterious stones. They were a shattered mess now, strewn across the lawn where they would probably stay for the next thousand years.

With his last class ages away and not wanting to face the great hall for lunch with his _new look_, he had chosen to investigate the library while he waited for Lily to be released from the hospital wing.

Reading the next heading and its subtitle, Severus couldn't stop a smirk ripping the corner of his thin lip up.

'_Slow revenge that's safe, easy and suitable for beginners.'_

He shook his head, disturbing his mane of pink fur and then risked a glance at the librarian. She narrowed her eyes and he averted his back to the page.

'_Requirements: 1 wand, 1 victim, 1 cauldron-'_

_So it was a potion..._ thought Snape quietly, and read on.

'_2 pts of salt water, 1 large dragon scale, 2 mice and the gel of 1 fresh water eel.'_

It all seemed perfectly obtainable – maybe not easily but in a place like Hogwarts, there were sure to be stores of potion ingredients lying around for the easy taking.

"Not how I planned on spending my first day," said a voice above him.

Snape looked up to see Lily's slightly pale face half-glaring, half-mocking as she held up her bandaged wrist for inspection.

"Three hours and it's _still_ all tingly and sore. Though, as Madame Pomfrey pointed out, it's better than bleeding to death."

"That bad?" Severus discreetly closed the book, but left a finger or two inside to mark the page.

She shrugged, her eyes dazzling and that ferocious grin of hers returning as she descended into the chair opposite. "Apparently."

"Look on the bright side," said Snape, nudging all but one of her books toward her, "we escaped detention."

"I'm sure I would have earned it if Sir Wormius hadn't prevented me – quite persistently. Which – reminds me..." her tone dropped, changing into a form of hush so that the few students scattered through the library couldn't hear. "Do you still have those frog-cards I gave you?"

_She must want them back_, thought Snape, but dug into his robes and produced them anyway, laying them flat on the table for her.

"Gosh!" she exclaimed, snatching one of the cards up in her tiny hands. "I thought I had imagined it." Snape patiently waited for her to elaborate. "I mean, it's him, isn't it?"

Lily flipped the card over and held it so that he could clearly see the words, 'Olaus Wormius' glisten and the old man's form move slightly. He was on old man, clutching onto his wand like a walker, unwilling to give up.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the old man on the card, leant forward and retrieved it from her.

"1588?" he could not help his eyebrows climbing in doubt. "Wizards live longer than muggles, but I've never heard of one making it close on four hundred."

This did not faze Lily in the slightest, presumably because her understanding of magic was limited.

"What about magic?" she retrieved the card and once again stared into the eyes of old wizard. "I swear – it's _him_."

"Our teacher is probably a relative," Snape offered. "Have you _seen_ the Weasley's? A hundred generations of clones – for sure. The ones – " he continued, "with the red hair..."

There were two Weasley brothers still in attendance at Hogwarts, one of them was a third year that Lily had seen playing Wizard Chess in the common room that first night but she hadn't spotted the other one yet.

"Why don't we ask him?" Lily said. "Sir Wormius will probably –"

"Not yet..." Snape interrupted her. "This card says that he was banned from the Wizarding world – that's really serious. I doubt he'd want to talk about a disgraced ancestor. We could always look up the registers, see if we can find out if Wormius has any living relatives."

Snape finally felt useful. He'd been in the library long enough to have a basic idea of where to find things – the official public records were all snuggled together on a long reference shelf. Each book sported identical red leather bindings and gold embossed text with their only differences coming from the alpha-numeric symbols on their spines.

Lily watched curiously as Snape departed the table and headed for the rather official shelf of books, carefully craning his neck as he browsed through them until coming to a stop. With a satisfied smirk, he slipped the heavy book from its home and carted it back to Lily.

_Births, Deaths and Banishments 1550-1600 W-Z_

"Looks promising," she said, shifting her chair around the table until she was next to him, peering over his arm as he hastily flicked through the book.

"_Woraanii – Woraby..." _his finger travelled faster as he muttered obscure names under his breath and finally came to, _"Wormwood?"_

Lily shook her head and moved his hand back up a few spots, "You missed it," she giggled, and suddenly his finger was on, _Worm, Ole._ _"Also known by Olaus Wormius, son of muggle Willum Worm. Banished 1628, disappeared August 31, 1655. Survived by: None."_ Lily read aloud, swallowing heavily. "You see," her eyes flared. "I _told you_."

*~*~*

The librarian rose from behind her heavy oak desk, set the _Daily Prophet_ on a pile of books, and strode over to the two young students moseying about on the cusp of the Restricted Section. She'd been waiting for an excuse to give them a detention for a while and now she'd spied her chance. They had – however innocently they protested, _touched_ a Restricted Book.

"You're kidding..." frowned Lily, subconsciously rubbing the bandage around her wrist. "She can't do that."

Snape was pretty sure she could. Detentions were up to the discretion of the teacher, even the nasty, bored ones.

"Not even a day," Lily continued with a scowl. "Not even _one_. All I wanted to do was look up Unicorns in-"

"A restricted book..." Snape finished her sentence and she huffed her disapproval.

*~*~*

Lucius Malfoy, all silver hair and crisp blue eyes, noted the empty seat at the lunch table. The new Slytherin was troubling – his absence even more so when combined with that of the red haired Gryffindor.

All in all, it was not a perfect start to his career as 'Prefect' but it was tolerable – he was certainly going to re-double his efforts to ensnare the alluring sixth year, Lorcan d'Eath. Lucius was hoping that she lived up to her reputation.

Lucius, so intent on his prey, failed to see another set of eyes focused just as firmly on himself. A female Slytherin sixth year, equally pale as himself, had been staring at him since the start of lunch – like she had done all last year, and the year before that. Narcissa fiddled with her flaxen hair, curling it around her finger as she watched the boy.

At the staff table, Olaus Wormius looked very distressed, prodding rather than eating his food. His beautiful robes seemed to sulk around him as a sigh hissed out of his lips. Minerva leant over, nudging him gently with her shoulder.

"Cheer up," she instructed, "nothing happened that couldn't be fixed."

Olaus blinked slowly, "I nearly killed two students on my first day. I should have just given them the damn detention in the first place. Leniency leads to more harm..."

"Well they received their detention anyway," she held up two small notes that had flown into the hall a few minutes ago. "Consider yourself lucky, by the end of the day I suspect half my house will be in detention. Oh, don't look now, but here comes Rolanda – fresh from her class of first years. Every time she comes back with all students and their limbs accounted for, I am utterly impressed."

"Is this the purpose of this chat to comfort me?"

Minerva shrugged, "No – if it's comfort you seek, try Sybill, she's always looking for comfort in one form or another."

Olaus couldn't help but cock and eyebrow at Minerva, "Pass..."

"Ah yes," Minerva swished her wand over her goblet and it filled with cool water. "Ablus said you were the quiet, lonesome type."

"Did he? That is, I fear, a tad unfair. Not all of us are alone due to choice."

She was about to reply when a small commotion caught her attention. Her gaze was just in time to catch the sight of Slytherin's prefect being flung across the room by a well aimed spell. The boy was thrown on top of Gryffindor's table where, in a storm of goblets and crockery, he came to a stunned halt.

"_What in the...?"_ Lucius muttered, feeling a sharp nip of pain. One moment he had been innocently staring at the vampire and the next he – wait, wasn't that – "Narcissa?" he asked, as the girl approached, wand held aloft in a threatening manner.

The eyes of the entire dining hall were upon them now.

The young witch opened her mouth as if to say something, her hand shaking around her wand, when she thought better of it and suddenly burst into tears. She heaved a few times before fleeing the room leaving everybody in shocked silence, especially Lucius Malfoy.

"Un-bel-iev-able..." he said, trying to sit up. There was a hoard of displeased Gryffindors crowding around him, returning to their seats and chaos that was once their table.

"He probably deserved that," whispered Minerva to Olaus. "You may be genuinely unaware of it, but your house is made up of –"

"Yes, thank you," Olaus glared.

*~*~*

"We should definitely leave this alone," said the smallest boy, eyeing the whomping willow with an air of caution. Peter, Sirius, James and Lupin had wandered down during lunch to inspect the great tree. It was actually – rather pitiful... After the frightening résumé the headmaster had given it, the children had been expecting something a little more sinister than the idle, sparse branches drooping toward the lawn.

It had already lost its leaves in preparation for winter leaving its bulbous knots looking more ugly than a gargoyle wart.

"Maybe we should just go..." Peter, the closet to the tree, backtracked, scurrying away like some form of rodent.

"It's actually rather boring," Sirius drawled, wondering where that cute group of Ravenclaws had vanished to.

James was the only one curious enough to persist.

"Oh," he said, pushing his jet back hair behind his ear, "it's here for a reason. Probably hiding treasure of some kind."

"Not everything Bernard Weasley says is true..." Sirius cautioned. "He once sold my younger, regrettably more schooled, brother some very ill hex repellents."

"Ill?" Lupin had his hands inside his endless pockets, keeping them warm.

"Suffice to say he paid the hospital wing an extended visit."

James's grin was widening. "Yes," he said, "but that's because Weasley did it on purpose. There's no cause to doubt his opinion. If he thinks there's treasure under there, then there probably is."

A light wind made the willow's branches twitch – rather unnaturally – in the wrong direction. Lupin's sharp watch caught it and he pointed.

"What do you think?" James asked, risking a step closer.

"I think that we should get to our next class..." was Lupin's firm response.

"You are absolutely no fun, Remus."

"Count me out of whatever it is you're about to do. I may not be quick, but I've finally learnt my lesson."

"And what lesson is that?" Sirius turned to the smaller boy.

"Don't partake in any of your hair-brained schemes."

"You hurt me, Remus," Sirius mocked, "you've hurt me real bad."

*~*~*

Lily's feathered quill hovered over Severus's head, dangling in mid-air. Ollivander had been right – charms were Lily's natural gift. It didn't seem to matter what Professor Flitwick asked her to do, she seemed to manage it with a lazy flick of her wand.

Severus wasn't inept – it just took him a little longer to master the art. At least his quill wasn't on fire, like Lupin's. Poor Lupin was the only member of the horrid quartet present and looked very lonely cramped on the edge of the bench.

"That's it – that's it, Miss Evans. Would you like to try something more challenging?" Professor Flitwick hopped off the enormous box he occupied during lessons so that the class can see him. He was a very young professor, a bit too eager to see how far his new students could go with their magic.

_Like what,_ thought Snape, _levitating the building?_

Flitwick motioned for her to come to the front of the classroom and – to Snape and Lupin's surprise, Lupin to come as well.

"Come, Mr Lupin, you're looking very put out. Time to enjoy yourself a little – you are in fine hands with Miss Evans, never fear."

Professor Flitwick couldn't have been more wrong. It would have been safer to ask a dragon to mind the owls.

Lupin scrambled through the room, not looking particularly thrilled in his new role as, 'Lilly's lab rat'. He had the sinking feeling that she would curse or hex him.

"Stand here, if you please," the professor pointed and Lupin followed. Then he turned to Lily, who was already holding her wand aloft in a menacing manner. "Now, Miss Evans, just as you did before, but you're going to have to flick it a little harder this time."

She nodded, aimed and whispered the charm with a strong flick of her wand.

Lupin yelped as his feet left the ground.

"Very good," Professor Flitwick commented, giving her permission to lift Lupin higher.

Lily did so, gradually raising her wand up until Remus Lupin was hovering several metres above the floor.

"As you can see, class," the professor began his lecture while Lily held Lupin steady, "this simple charm can be used on any object be it living or not – exempting those with magical protection. Remember, the larger the object, the more effort it will take to perform. Theoretically there is no limit to what can be levitated except by the power of the individual witch or wizard. Now –"

One of the levitating quills in the audience suddenly exploded in a green flash of light and loud, _'bang'_.

Lily startled, completely losing her concentration for a moment. As soon as she had lowered her wand, Lupin had followed, slamming into the ground with a growl. This time Lily squeaked.

"I'm so sorry!" she gushed, then realised how much she _hated _him, and bit her tongue.

"Ow..." Lupin rolled over onto his back. _This was such a bad start to school life._

"This very clearly demonstrates," continued Flitwick, apparently unconcerned, "the importance of concentration. You cannot let your mind wander."

Lily blushed and quickly turned her attention to the crowd where she found Severus's eyes with – _no ..._ with a casual cloud of smoke wafting into the air. He winked at her, and she winked back. This was merely a prelude to the revenge he had planned on Lupin.

*~*~*

Sir Olaus Wormius frowned at the rather large collection of students in the dungeon. It had been a long time since he'd been in a school and the last detention he had attended had been in the capacity of 'miscreant'. In all honesty, he wasn't quite sure what to do with them all.


End file.
